Author Archives: ghotchkiss

Google’s Mission and the Economic Colonization of the Web

First published January 27, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Aaron Goldman and I agree — it’s time for Google to rethink its mission statement. But we disagree on the reason. Goldman thinks it’s time “to call a spade a spade” and for Google to come clean on their intention to grab as many ad dollars as possible. From this perspective, the change in the mission statement is really just to better align it with Google’s business.

I think “organizing the world’s information” needs to be changed for a different reason. I think there are inherent limitations in it that may seriously impact Google’s revenue stream in the future.

A Quick Update

But first, some background. Eric Schmidt has moved into that corporate limbo called “executive chairman”-ship. I don’t really know what an executive chairman does. I asked Google and it’s also pretty fuzzy on the concept. According to Schmidt, it’s to focus on external partnerships and to “advise” Larry and Sergey. To me, it sounds like a long and polite good-bye. Whatever we know about the shift, I guarantee there’s more to the story.

Also, Google rocked expectations on Q4 earnings, so all appears to be rosy in Google-world. But quarterly earnings calls are a notoriously poor indicator of the strategic health of an organization. They reflect the success of strategic decisions made a year or two ago and the ability of the organization to execute against them. They tell you nothing about the strategy today, or how the company may do in the future. Which brings us back to the mission statement.

Missionary Work

Organizing the world’s information sounds like a lofty goal, and it is. It was entirely appropriate given the “wild-west” nature of the Web when Google first appeared in 1997. But on the Web, information equals data, and data comes in two forms: structured and unstructured. Google’s mission was defined at a time when almost everything online was unstructured. It was a mess. It needed to be organized. And Google’s revenue model sprung from its ability to match consumer intent with all this unstructured content. It was a broad-based attempt to tame the Web, and it was tremendously successful.

But the success came with limitations. If you’re going to try to organize unstructured information, you have to rely on some method to interpret the meaning of the information. You need some framework to organize information into. Google, like every other engine, relied on language as a measure of relevance — specifically matching content to a query made up of keywords. But language is notoriously difficult for machines to get right, because it’s ambiguous. Consider that words like “set,” “cut” and “break” can be defined in close to 100 different ways. Google’s struggle for the past decade and a half has been dealing with the difficulties of organizing unstructured data.

Another challenge is trying to deal with all unstructured data in the same interface. Google has tried to meet the challenge by incorporating more and more content categories into the main results page. There are currently more than a dozen categories you could conduct your search in. The elegance of the one-size-fits-all engine is rapidly becoming clunky and awkward.

The Colonization of the Web

Over the same time that Google has been pursuing its mission, the Web has become economically colonized. Where there’s an opportunity to make a buck, there is motivation to move data into a more structured format. Pockets of economically viable data have become increasing structured in the past 10 years, including all travel categories, books, movies, music and many commonly purchased products. Increasingly, we’re going to see this colonization, which will organize information in a way that Google could never do “on-the-fly.” And as this data becomes more structured, it allows for a different interaction with it. Data becomes more functional and more useful. It moves from conducting a search to using an application. Think of the difference between trying to plan a trip using nothing but Google — and planning the same trip using Kayak. That’s the difference between dealing with unstructured and structured data.

This colonization will hit Google where it hurts most — the highest volume, most commercially relevant searches. At this point, Google still acts as a navigational path to these structured destinations, but this is a transitional band-aid at best. The Web is growing up and it’s being tamed in bits and pieces; not by Google’s algorithmic wizardry but by commercial opportunities.

Google is right to focus on the possibilities of mobile. More and more of our online activity will happen there. But mobile is not a new frontier, it’s simply a new view into the same landscape. It will leverage the same colonies of structured data. In fact, the mobile use-case is perfectly suited to dealing with structured data. It will accelerate the colonization.

Google’s concept of “organizing” falls short of our end goal, which is using information to do things with. If I were Google, I’d be doing some wordsmithing using words like “useful” and “functional.”

The World Out of Context

First published January 20, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Did you see Ricky Gervais hosting the Golden Globes? No? Neither did I. Neither did about 98% of the population of North America, according to the ratings numbers. Yet I would bet in the past week that we all knew about it, and we all talked about it. But we’re basing our judgments, opinions and conversations on something we’ve, at best, read online, heard about through the network (virtual or otherwise) or seen on YouTube. We’re experiencing the simultaneous pleasure and pain of Ricky’s Golden Globe Roast through hearsay and sound bites.

This isn’t an isolated incident. More and more, our view of the world comes after the fact, often filtered through fragments found somewhere online. Most of our experience of the world is out of its original context. This phenomenon isn’t new. Gossip is as old as language. We all love to talk about what’s happened. But the prevalence of digital footprints throws a new spin on this inherently human tendency. The impact of that spin, I’m afraid, is still to be determined.

The World as I Remember It

Memories are funny things. We like to think of them as snapshots of the past, accurately recording where we’ve been. The truth is, memories aren’t all that reliable. We tend to remember high points and low points, removing much of the distracting noise in the middle that makes up the stuff of our everyday lives. It’s like a Reader’s Digest condensed version of our past, except we tend to rewrite the actual content to match our view of the world. And once we rewrite our memories to match our beliefs, we believe them to be true (see Danny Kahneman’s TED talk on remembered happiness). It’s a self-perpetuating cycle that helps maintain the consistency of our worldview, but it’s a far stretch from what actually happened. Even more disturbing, if you’re a fan of the truth, is that we can’t seem to resist tweaking the story to make it more interesting. We love to build memes that take on a life of their own, spreading virally across the social landscape.

I always maintain that technology doesn’t change behaviors; it allows behaviors to change. Technology can’t force us down a road we don’t want to go. This drive to tweak little tidbits of the past is something baked into the human psyche. But the vast tableau we now have available to share it on is something quite new. “Going viral” now raises gossip to a whole new level.  Just ask a dorky little kid that goes by BeenerKeeKee 19952 online. His strangely compelling lip syncs to popular songs have turned him into an instant celebrity. His cover of Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” has garnered close to 30 million views on YouTube, closing in on the popularity of the original video. He’s become so popular that 50 Cent popped into his bedroom to do a cameo recently.  But we know nothing of the kid behind the webcam. We don’t know the context of his life. We don’t know if he is bullied at school, has a life outside his bedroom or is good at baseball. All we know is what we can see in three minutes and 48 seconds.

Fool’s Gold

One recent example of this problem of context is Ted Williams, the homeless man with the golden voice who was plucked from the streets of Columbus, Ohio and placed on a world stage. The world judged the situation based on a 1 minute and 14 second Youtube clip. We saw what appeared to be injustice, and rushed to right the wrong. Job offers poured in. Williams became a celebrity. But it all happened without the context of the 53 years of an undeniably checkered past that preceded the fateful video clip. As it is turning out, as we gain the context, the real story is not nearly as simple or straightforward as we would like. Williams is already in rehab.

Acting on hearsay and secondhand information is nothing new. But as our communication abilities and our ability to archive history continue to expand, we get further and further from the true context of things. With the advent of online, word of mouth flows farther, faster and is more compelling than ever. More and more, we will act on little bits of information that are far removed from their true origins. We will pass judgment without the benefit of context. This will create more instant celebrities, basking in their 15 minutes of fame. And it will also create more viral sensations with self-destructive tendencies. There’s one thing about context – it may not lead to the instant gratification we crave, but it does tend to keep the egg off of one’s face.

High Risk & High Reward: Fully Engaged Buying

First published January 13, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Last week I talked about High Risk/Low Reward purchases and said that when you’re in this quadrant, your “buying brain is driving the brake pedal through the floorboards.” True, but at least there is some consistency in the behaviors: risk trumps all.

When you’re navigating through a High Risk/High Reward purchase, you can be forgiven for appearing schizophrenic in your decision-making process. We swing back and forth from logic to what can only be described as love, with the volatility of a pendulum. If ever we were fully engaged in a buying process, this is the time. It’s all hands on deck for this purchase.

High Risk/High Reward purchases include new homes, vehicles, expensive toys and extravagant vacations. We spend a lot — but we also expect a lot. Game theorists and economists use a term called expected utility to describe our envisioned probable outcome from a decision.  It’s a pretty colorless term, and in theoretical terms, the lack of color in the label reflects the lack of emotion in the decision. Here, we weigh risk against logical outcomes — for example, the expected payoff from a wager.

Expected utility plays a major role in high reward purchases, but here, utility is dramatically colored with emotion. A car is not just about solving your transportation challenges (the expected utility). It’s about mid-life crises, keeping ahead of your brother-in-law, and the image of airing out your thinning hair on a cruise down the California coast. This, in many cases, is high-octane fantasizing, and there’s little logic to it.

Anywhere you find emotional rewards, you’ll find brands. And in these types of purchases of manufactured goods, you’ll inevitably find a brand turf war. Our complex relationships with the brands that define us are born in high-emotional-reward purchase scenarios. And in these types of purchases, the increased role of risk creates a delicious ambiguity in our rationalization of brand love.  We buy brands because of an emotional connection that comes straight from our limbic core (really, in this world of “pretty good” products, there is little to differentiate one brand from another), but our thinking brain kicks into overdrive to explain the logic behind our choice. We can’t seem to grasp the reality that logic had little to do with it.

These highly engaged purchases leave a vast and deep online footprint. We spend hours online, theoretically researching a purchase, but in many cases, we’re pre-rewarding ourselves through envisioning the acquisition of the reward. We use vehicle configurators and agonize over option packages and interior color schemes. We do endless virtual walk-throughs of homes. And we plan our dream vacation in minute detail, balancing recommendations from TripAdvisor and other sites against the limits of our budget and itinerary. Fantasizing begins online, and we have to allow for this in our marketing strategy.

When your product falls into this category, you want to support the fantasy as much as possible, utilizing digital media that encourages an emotional connection. Video and interactivity are a key part of the mix. We reach out on social media sites not just to manage risk by getting the opinions of others, but also to live vicariously through capturing the experiences of those who have bought before us.

As one would imagine, giving the depth and complexity of this online engagement, the search paths taken are equally convoluted. Search will be used repeatedly through the purchase process and for differing intents. There is no “one size fits all” approach here. In these purchase scenarios, a deep qualitative understanding of prospect behaviors will separate the great marketers from the herd.

High Risk & Low Reward: Buying with the Brakes On

First published January 6, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

After a brief detour last week (thanks for the many heartfelt messages for my Uncle Jim) I want to return to my exploration of the role of risk and reward in our online consumer behaviors.  We looked at the low risk/low reward and low risk/high reward quadrants. Today, we’ll continue by exploring the High Risk/Low Reward quadrant.

As a brief recap, our brains tend to apply brakes or step on the gas when steering through a buying decision based on the degree of risk and the promise of reward inherent in the decision. This dictates the nature of the consumer journey we take – both in terms of paths chosen and duration. I’ve talked before about the concept of bounded rationality, or the threshold of logical consideration we give to any decision. As behavioral economists have found, in almost every human decision, ration is modified by gut instinct. We call this “satisficing.” The only question, it seems, is the balance between the two. Risk and reward are hugely influential in determining our “satisficing” threshold for any purchase decision.

High Risk/Low Reward

In the last column, I described Low Risk/High Reward indulgences as “all gas and little brake.” The chocolate bar temptingly placed at the grocery store checkout aisle is just one example. High Risk/Low Reward purchases live at the opposite end of buyer behavior spectrum. Here your buying brain is driving the brake pedal through the floorboards. Consider this the consumer equivalent of teaching your teenager to drive.

In our personal lives, it includes such joyless purchases as insurance (all kinds, and the higher the premiums, the greater the perceived risk), financial planning, big-ticket home maintenance (not fun stuff like renovations, but replacing a roof, fixing a sagging foundation or getting a new furnace), car repairs and professional services such as lawyers or accountants.

Ironically, each of these types of purchases is usually triggered by either legislation  (car insurance), a non-negotiable need (a leaking roof) or the greater perceived risk of doing nothing (not having a lawyer in a divorce). If there wasn’t some impending reason to buy, we never would. There are no positive emotions at play here, only negative ones.

There is another type of purchase that falls into this quadrant that impacts many of our clients – bigger ticket B2B purchases. Indeed, I wrote an entire book on the subject : “The BuyerSphere Project.”

The lack of positive reward means our consumer research is all aimed at one thing and one thing only: the elimination of risk. In this scenario, risk has several dimensions: price, reliability and, because many of these purchases are predicated on avoiding future risk, balancing current risk against future risk. There is another aspect of risk, which is not commonly identified in these types of purchases: the risk of change. Often, big-ticket purchases require you to make changes in your routine, which involves change management.

When we look at what online behaviors might be for a High Risk/Low Reward purchase, we see risk mitigation as the key factor. Sites that allow buyers to compare several alternatives tend to be very popular, especially if they offer some type of rating. Online aggregators and directories tend to thrive in this quadrant, as they focus on quantifying pricing-based risk.

Because there is little or no emotional reward in these purchases, there is little in the way of positive emotional engagement.  As somebody once told me, nobody ever threw a party to buy car insurance.  Social media engagement is restricted to verifying you don’t get burned in the purchase. Rich-media demonstrations will be passed over in favor of quick comparison charts. And if you are engaging the senses, you’ll be capitalizing on fear of risk rather than a promise of reward.

Next week, we’ll make our way to the last quadrant of the matrix: High Risk/High Reward.

Uncle Jim: My Information Highway

105004556_10156866970385670_4530696031889839476_nFor my last post of 2010, I’d like to take a little detour from my usual subject matter and tell you about someone very special to me. I’d like to introduce you to my Uncle Jim, who passed away on Christmas day. He was, in many ways, a precursor to the connected world we write about constantly in this column.

Uncle Jim was a long-haul truck driver. For most of his life, he delivered bricks in Eastern Canada and the United States. Over the last several years of his career, he hauled specialty vehicles for the rich and famous (i.e. he transported Celine Dion’s car from Florida to Vegas). It was this last job that caused him to crisscross the continent. And it was during this time that many of us in the family got to know Uncle Jim.

Our family is pretty spread out. In Canada, we literally span the country, from Halifax to Vancouver. And we have members who also live south of the 49th parallel, primarily in Texas. Over the years, the bonds of our family have had to become pretty elastic to accommodate the intervening miles. But the bonds have never stretched to the breaking point, and one big reason for that was Uncle Jim.

Uncle Jim was our original information highway. Family was vitally important to Jim, and as he crossed the continent, he’d always set time aside to drop in on his various nieces, nephews and cousins. Jim kept a trucker’s timetable, which meant you wouldn’t get much warning. You’d get a call, which generally went like this; “Hey, it’s your Uncle Jim. I’m in town. Got time for a coffee? I’d like to see you.”

Jim didn’t care about how tidy your house was, or whether there was anything to feed him. He was a man who appreciated a hot cup of coffee and a good chat. You would bring him up to date with your life, and in return he’d share his treasure trove of family tidbits from across the country. Through Jim, you’d reacquaint yourself with your far-flung family: the cousins who were expecting, starting a new job, going to school or getting engaged. At the end of the visit, you were always very glad you took the time for a “coffee and a chat.” And Jim was always gracious and grateful for the time you took out of your day to share with him.

Uncle Jim made the life of a long-haul trucker tolerable by using it to become the glue of our family. He tied us together in ways that we’ve only now begun to appreciate with his passing. To a person, each of us have our “Uncle Jim” stories which have become so precious to us. We even had “Uncle Jim” alerts. My sister, who lives in Edmonton (about a 12-hour drive from our home) would give me a quick call to let me know Uncle Jim was on his way and I could be expecting a call soon. This gave us enough time to grab some cookies to have with coffee.

In the past few years, as Uncle Jim battled with cancer, I was able to return the favor. Whenever my travels took me anywhere in the vicinity of their home, I took an extra day to spend some time with my aunt and uncle. I didn’t think it was possible, but in the past three years (since his original diagnosis) family became even more precious to my Uncle Jim. Whether it was weddings, reunions or joint family vacations, he was never too ill to travel and spend time with family. Fortunately, my wife and I were able to host one of these reunions at our home a year and a half ago. It would become the last family reunion that Uncle Jim was able to make.

My last visit with Jim was a week before his passing. We didn’t have coffee, but we did talk about family and share some laughs. The burly truck driver was barely recognizable in a physical sense, weighing less than half what he once did, but the spirit was still there. He struggled to sit up so he could shake my hand. He was so grateful for the time I took out of my day to spend those last few minutes with him. I can’t express how much I’ll miss those visits.

On Christmas day, we all struggled with our loss. But somehow it was fitting that Jim’s far-flung nieces and nephews reached out online to share our grief. We posted little slivers of our sadness on Facebook — and from those slivers, a picture of Uncle Jim began to emerge. It seemed fitting to me that the portrait of a man who spent so much time on the road came from people separated by miles but united by memories.

I’d like to end 2010 with my own Facebook memorial to my Uncle Jim:

Uncle Jim… there’s a stop ahead where you can rest for the night. The food is good, the coffee hot, the traffic light and there are friends and family waiting for a visit. You’ve had a long haul with a tough load. It’s okay to let someone else take the wheel. You’ve more than earned a rest. Sleep well, Uncle Jim, sleep well. Your job is done! 

Risk, Reward and the Buying Matrix

First published December 23, 2010 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Last week, I explored how two parts of our brain, the nucleus accumbens and the anterior insula, are key in driving our buying behaviors. I compared them to the gas pedal and brake of our buying “engine.” The balance between the two is key to understanding how we are driven towards our ultimate decisions. The nucleus accumbens drives our anticipation of an emotional reward, and the anterior insula creates anxiety around areas of risk.

As it turns out, you can plot the two as the axes of a matrix on which, theoretically, you could plot any purchase. The four quadrants would be, starting in the lower left and going clockwise: low risk/low reward,  low risk/high reward, high risk/high reward and, finally, high risk/low reward. Let’s take a deeper dive in each quadrant to see what kind of purchases fall into each.

Low Risk/Low Reward

This is the stuff of everyday life. If you’re a “to-do” list kind of person, these types of purchases would probably be on that list. Think of household supplies like toilet paper and laundry detergent, or the milk, dry goods, etc. that make up a large percentage of your grocery list. This is the world of consumer packaged goods. The only real exceptions are those products that represent personal indulgences, like a steak or your favorite premium ice cream.

There is a huge piece of the B2B market that falls into this category as well: office  and industrial supplies, parts and other often-purchased items.

There is no gas pedal and no brake on these purchases. While the low prices remove any real risk, these are also not the types of shopping trips you look forward to all day. You simply have to get them done. This means the personal engagement with the actual act of purchasing will be minimal. Here, we are creatures of habit. We go to the same places to buy the same things because we really don’t want to invest any more time than is necessary to get the job done. If you compete in this space, you have one strategy and one strategy only: provide the fastest and easiest path to purchase.

Low Risk/High Reward

Here, we have our little indulgences; the day-to-day treats that make life worth living. The entire premium consumer product industry lives squarely in this quadrant: premium desserts, pre-made meals, beauty care products, wines, craft beers and, moving into slightly greater degrees of risk, clothes, accessories, shoes, costume jewelry and electronic gadgets.  This is also where you’d find CDs, DVDs and books. It’s in this quadrant where Amazon rules.

These purchases are all gas and little brake.  If you ever make a purchase on impulse, it’s almost guaranteed to fall into this part of the behavioral matrix.  When women plan shopping trips, it’s to indulge their reward center with these types of purchases. But men are also vulnerable to the siren call of the indulgent purchase: gadgets, tools, sporting goods, electronic games — and, for the metro-men amongst us, clothes and accessories. By the way, manicures, pedicures and spa visits all qualify, along with movies, concerts and dining out.

This quadrant is particularly timely this time of year, because when you buy a gift for someone, you hope you’ve hit this quadrant. The tough part is knowing your recipients well enough to figure out what will kick their nucleus accumbens into high gear.

While the degree of risk doesn’t merit a lot of intensive research, here the buying can be as much fun as the owning, which generally means a higher degree of engagement on the part of the buyer. Shopping environments that enhance the reward part of the equation will be attractive. Buyers are susceptible to suggestion, especially if it comes through our social connections. And brand affinities are powerful here.

In my next column, I’ll provide some examples of the other two quadrants to see what kind of purchases fall into each. Then, we’ll see how each of these buying scenarios might map on the online consumer landscape.

The Insula and The Accumbens: Driving Online Behavior

First published December 16, 2010 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

One of the more controversial applications of new neurological scanning technologies has been a quest by marketers for the mythical “buy button” in our brains. So far, no magical nook or cranny in our cranium has given marketers the ability to foist whatever crap they want on it, but a couple of parts of the brain have emerged as leading contenders for influencing buying behavior.

The Nucleus Accumbens: The Gas Pedal

The nucleus accumbens has been identified as the reward center of the brain. Although this is an oversimplification, it definitely plays a central role in our reward circuit. Neuroscanning studies show that the nucleus accumbens “lights up” when people think about things that have a reward attached: investments with big returns, buying a sports car or participating in favorite activities. Dopamine is released and the brain benefits from a natural high. Emotions are the drivers of human behavior — they move us to action (the name comes from the Latin movere, meaning “to move”). The reward circuit of the brain uses emotions to drive us towards rewards, an evolutionary pathway that improves our odds for passing along our genes.

In consumer behaviors, there are certain purchase decisions that fire the nucleus accumbens. Anything that promises some sort of emotional reward can trigger our reward circuits. We start envisioning what possession would be like: the taste of a meal, the thrill of a new car, the joy of a new home, the indulgence of a new pair of shoes. There is strong positive emotional engagement in these types of purchases.

The Anterior Insula: The Brake

But if our brain was only driven by reward, we would never say no. There needs to be some governing factor on the nucleus accumbens. Again, neuroscanning has identified a small section of the brain called the anterior insula as one of the structures serving this role.

If the nucleus accumbens could be called the reward center, the anterior insula could be called the Angst Center of our brains. The insula is a key part of our emotional braking system.  Through the release of noradrenaline and other neurochemicals, it creates the gnawing anxiety that causes us to slow down and tread carefully. In extreme cases, it can even evoke disgust. If the nucleus accumbens drives impulse purchasing, it’s the anterior insula that triggers buyer’s remorse.

The Balance Between the Two 

Again, at the risk of oversimplification, these two counteracting forces drive much of our consumer behavior. You can look at any purchase as the net result of the balance between them; a balancing of risk and reward, or in the academic jargon, prevention and promotion. High-reward and low-risk purchases will have a significantly different consumer behavior pattern than low-reward and high-risk purchases. Think about the difference between buying life insurance and a new pair of shoes. And because they have significantly different behavior profiles, the online interactions that result from these purchases will look quite different as well. In the next column, I’ll look at the four different purchase profiles (High Risk/High Reward, High Risk/Low Reward, Low Risk/High Reward and Low Risk, Low Reward) and look at how the online maps might look in each scenario.

Search Breaks Out of the Box in Park City

First published December 9, 2010 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Wow! The Search Insider Summit is in full swing in Park City, Utah and for the first time in six or seven Summits, I’m not there. I don’t mind saying, it’s feeling kinda weird.

Laurie Sullivan and the team, including your emcee Aaron Goldman, did a bang-up job putting the show together. I did have some limited involvement, looking on from the sidelines as they lined up the speakers and nailed down the agenda. They’re touching on all the hot topics: the convergence of display and search, social and search (pretty much everything and search); new platforms to allow for more effective targeting; the ongoing changes on the SERP; using data to make smarter marketing decisions; and yes, once again, how mobile will change everything (and this time, it’s really true!).

The agenda is a broad one, reaching into virtually every aspect of online activity. And really, that’s what any search agenda has to be. One of the ongoing challenges of programming the past several Summits has been where to draw the line. Despite the best efforts of many to define the search “box,” search is not a box, a channel, or a tactic. It’s what we do. And as such, it connects everything. We search in social networks. We search on mobile. And if we happen to see an ad that triggers our interest, the odds are very good that we will — you guessed it — launch a search. So a Search Summit has to be, by necessity, a Social/Mobile/Testing/Analytics/Display/Target and Segmentation Summit. You can’t keep search in a box.

I started writing this column way back in 2004. Since then (for almost 300 columns), I’ve been watching how search has seeped into every nook and cranny of online behavior. It’s become the gold standard for intercepting a consumer with intent. Search inventory forms the core of any performance marketing strategy worth its salt. Most of the things Goldman and Company will be talking about, nestled in the silver frosted peaks of Utah, revolve around extending the accountability and performance of search into other channels. Once you’ve tasted the search Kool-Aid, it’s hard to settle for any other flavor. The problem is, of course, with the keyword-restricted limits on search inventory, there’s only so much Kool-Aid to go around.

But another thing struck me while I ran down the Summit agenda: we’re talking about things we would have never talked about in 2004. We’re talking about the users on the other side of that search interface as real live people, not just volume numbers in a keyword discovery tool. Tony Fagan from Google will be talking about how constant testing helps hone your marketing skills against actual behaviors. Eli Goodman from comScore will share some tasty data about how Google Instant is changing behaviors on the results page. And, of course, you can’t dive into social media without understanding how people behave when they’re traveling with the herd.

If there’s one thing I’ve found lacking in search marketing, it’s the “marketing” part of the industry. More often than not, search plays out as a technical exercise, full of algorithms, rules and tools, rather than what marketing should be: a drive to forge relevant connections to people with needs, fears and dreams. When I programmed the Summit, I always tried to bring that perspective to the stage. I’m glad to see Laurie and her team have also kept the human part of search very much alive at this Summit.

Have fun, Search Summiters. I’ll miss you (and will see you in Captiva)!

Baring Your Corporate Soul Online

First published December 2, 2010 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Web presence is taking on a whole new meaning. I’m having more and more conversations with companies that are in the middle of redefining who they are online. In that process, they’re just not sure what they expose and what they keep hidden behind the kimono. Their website started as a marketing channel, but the explosion of potential customer touch points online makes the whole idea of a website seem hopelessly antiquated. Yet, there’s a limit in scope and complexity that makes websites an easily grasped online concept.

Here are some selected snippets from those conversations:

1.  “Is blogging really worthwhile? It’s a pretty high investment for the low traffic that blogs get.”

2.  “Yeah, we don’t really talk about that on our website. Would anyone be interested in that?”

3.  We launched our Facebook page and we have 170,000 fans already. Other than a potential audience to advertise too, we’re just not sure what that means.”

Here, then, is the business reality that lives on the other side of all these comments:

1.  The company in question is literally creating a paradigm shift by introducing new workflow management platforms in a very traditional industry. They succeed by convincing companies that technology can dramatically improve performance and profitability. Yet, despite the urging of their digital marketing department, they’re reluctant to embrace digital content generation channels (such as blogs) to spread this message.

2.  This company is a North American toy manufacturer that is evangelical in their mission to empower creative development in children. They employ one of the largest internal design teams in the industry outside of electronic gaming. And, the design team sits directly above the manufacturing floor (they’ve resisted the industry tide to move all their manufacturing offshore by dramatically improving efficiencies through technology) so they can follow their designs from inception right through to realization.

3.  A clothing retailer based in Montreal is going head-to-head with much larger American competitors and stealing significant market share in key entry markets because of the coolness of being “French.”The strength of the Quebecois culture shines through in the retailer’s promotional materials despite the fact that there has been no overt intent on the part of the retailer to capitalize on it.

Three different stories, but they all have one thing in common. As they consider their next steps in creating an online presence, they’ll all drawing closer and closer to the very essence of their companies. In the past decade and a half, we all rushed to create a website because it seemed to be the price of entry to play in the online marketplace. But since then, that online ecosystem has exploded along multiple dimensions. It’s much richer than it used to be.

At one time, a website was the only conceivable way to play, and those websites were all considered sales or marketing channels. But today, our customers expect to engage with us in an authentic and compelling way online. There is a reason why they’re intrigued by our products or services. And often, the answer to why that is can be found in the core of who we are. It lives in our mission, our core values and our people. Yet we almost never expose that online. What makes us different is infused into our corporate culture and may be taken from granted by those of us who live and work on the inside. We never think about exposing that side of us online. Yet it’s exactly those inside stories that set us apart. And yes, people are interested in that stuff. People care about how fanatical Zappos is about customer service. People respond to the obsessive worship of design that typifies Apple. And not all the drinkers of the Google Kool-Aid live and work within the Google Empire.

A while ago in my company we made a decision. We are a service company —  our product is our people. So we pushed them front and center on our website. We wanted prospects to learn a little bit about the team they’d be working with. Also, within our company, music was a big part of our culture. We had a number of employees who were also musicians. As almost an afterthought, we asked all our employees to submit their top-10 music lists and published them on our site. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve met someone for the first time and they’ve told me that they also love the Eagle’s “Hotel California,” or that “Bohemian Rhapsody” still sets their head bobbing a la Wayne’s World. Our top-10 lists are consistently one of the most popular sections of our site.

It may not be part of the marketing plan, but don’t be afraid to bare a bit of your soul through online channels. It makes us human, and being human is a great foundation on which to build a relationship!

Google: Caught in the Act of Balancing

First published November 18, 2010 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

In last week’s column, I talked about the number of changes I was seeing on the Google results page, and, in particular, how they might maintain the delicate balance between driving revenue from the page and maintaining user trust. No sooner did the digital ink dry on the column than I received an email from an old friend, Chris Knoch, formerly of Omniture and now vice president of marketing at Ready Financial. In his email, Chris included a screen shot of a rather interesting beta that Google is running:

Google-Screen-ShotIt’s hard to say, given Google’s love for beta testing, how widely spread this test is and how indicative it might be of future ad presentations, but there are a number of fascinating implications to consider here. For today’s column, I’d like to focus on one of them: the elimination of the side ads.

Side ads generate a small percentage of the sponsored clicks from the page. For most results, the top two or three ads generate over 80% of the paid clicks on the page, with the seven or eight running down the right rail splitting the remaining 20%. That’s a lot of real estate to devote to underperforming ads. Will Google’s expandable alternative, with the user choosing to see eight more ads, generate more clicks? I suspect so. Here’s why.

We judge the relevance and quality of blocks of information as a group, rather than consider them individually. The first ad in any block will dictate the performance of the block as a whole. If it’s a high quality ad, it’s saying to the user, “I’m relevant. Chances are the rest of the ads in this group could be relevant too. At least, you should spend a few seconds deciding for yourself!” But if it’s a low quality ad, it sends the message, “Don’t waste your time here. I’m not relevant, and everything below me is even worse.”

For side ads, this means that the top ad determines the depth of scanning engagement with the entire block. The position and visual treatment of the ads reinforces that it’s a “sidebar”, of secondary importance to the main purpose of the page. We won’t invest a lot of time scanning here, and if the first ad sucks, the rest of the block is doomed.

Google’s treatment provides a compelling alternative to the user. It restricts the number of ads shown to only the highest quality ones (you’ll notice that this presentation appeared on a broad query, where there would be sufficient inventory to provide high quality ads). The ads should be just as relevant to the intent of the user as the organic results, and given the query, probably more relevant. The user should be hooked. The presentation of two ads (I’d bet big money on the fact that Google will be testing both two and three ad presentations above the “more ads” button) gives a ready-made consideration set for the user. We’ve known for some time now that users “chunk off” a result set in groups of two or three results (maximum four) and consider them as a group. There are natural visual barriers (the related search suggestions) that reinforce the visual presentation of the top ads as a group. What this means is that the user will judge relevancy, and if the first two (or three) ads pass the test, there’s a high likelihood that the set will be expanded.

When the set is expanded, the entire visual balance of the search results set is changed to the benefit of the advertisers, but the user initiates it. The user has given the ads an implicit vote of confidence, and by doing so, all organic results are pushed down out of visual scanning range. My guess is that this will result in much higher engagement with the ads, virtually eliminating the sidebar blindness that has typically plagued right-rail ads.

It’s a perfect example of maintaining user trust while driving more revenue. Based on this beta, I’d have to say, “Well done, Google!”