Chris Writes.

I’m not a big fan of “branding” in it’s classic sense. It seems to be relied upon too often as a crutch to support marketing efforts that don’t have a clear message, strategy, and direction. “Oh, this is more of a branding ad/email/website/billboard”…I’ve heard and read that often. In a world of connected customers, cheaper ‘no-name’ brands of high quality, and a whole lot of other marketing noise out there, does this really make any sense anymore? Or has it become a way to justify a poor marketing execution that merely follows tradition?

Then, the flipside is: there are just plain awesome brands out there. ‘Brand Awesomeness’ was a term that I first heard mentioned at a conference where the guys from threadless were presenting their experiences in online community building. It stuck with me. It’s a simple term that makes intuitive sense (grammar issues aside, of course). And I’ve spent lots of time, lucky for me, working under the umbrella of what I and a lot of others believe to be a brand that has ‘awesomeness’. And I don’t claim to know much, but I am quite sure that the brand awesomeness that exists in the company where I’m lucky to work was not created through a series of mediocre logo-centric print ads that someone justified by saying it was ‘more of a branding ad’. Anyone who says that (this is where I borrow an apt term from Scott Adams) is probably a weasel.

So I’m thinking about this lots recently: what creates brand awesomeness? And for the moment, I’m not talking about the wonderfully powerful yet perhaps suspiciously ultra-polished behemoths like Apple. I’m looking more towards the niche corners: Scion (I own one), Lego (own lots), Camper (2 pair), Patagonia (yup), the Wii (want!), and Harley (not for me, thanks). How can a relatively small brand, or a big brand in a relatively small industry, achieve these leaps out into such a widely distributed network of loyalists?

After chewing on this for a few days, I think I’m starting to see some patterns. Maybe branding might not be so much what is done, but who it’s done to, and then what they then do to each other. Let me explain.

For any brand, you can divide the world into three pie slices: a very very small one for employees. A small one for existing and past customers. And the rest (probably the biggest pie piece) for those who aren’t yet customers.

It seems to me, for the little I might pretend that I know, that each of these groups needs to be included in different ways. An employee that thinks highly of the brand is not only likely to work harder, they’re also likely to spread their enthusiasm with reckless abandon. They care about different things than customers though. They see the underbelly of the beast. They know what actually goes on. And they need to feel good about that.

Customers are potential advocates, with a small number carrying a large voice (everyone knows the neighborhood or office ‘car guy’, right?). But the pissed off ones all find their lungs if improperly tended.

Last, the non-customers. These guys don’t know you. They don’t feel a twinge of emotion, good or bad, at the sight of an unknown logo. But they’re not deaf, dumb, or blind, and under the right circumstances, they might be wiling to be entertained, taught, or even involved.

Here’s the really interesting thing though: think about the three pie slices, and how they tend to notice the others reactions. The employees are sensitive to the customers (they want to work for a company that’s not hated by its own customers, which makes sense). The customers watch the non-customers, because it’s cool to own something that someone else knows the value of, but doesn’t have (and maybe wants). And the non-customers watch the rest of the world, initially not being able to tell the difference between one of their own, a customer, and an employee. Non-customers just watch for social patterns, and pay attention when something glitters.

There’s a trifecta here somewhere. I’m not sure what it is yet exactly, but I bet there’s a diagram just waiting to be drawn.  Maybe that’ll be the next project.

I’ve learned quite a bit recently about the collection of failures and inconveniences that comprise the US health care system. I realize that’s a harsh way to start any discussion, but I don’t have any motivation to be cautious here. I pay quite a bit for my health care (nearly $100 per month), so I feel entitled to an opinion.  Admittedly, that’s nearly $100 more than I paid when I lived back home in the Great White North. But that’s a separate topic altogether, eh?

Humourously-yet-horrifically, we recently had to reconfirm our health care coverage at work, and I had a read through the “Privacy Notice” that came along with my now-slightly-more-expensive health care. It states:

“We need to know about you so that we can provide the insurance and other products and services that you’ve requested. We may also need it to administer your business with us, evaluate claims, process transactions, and run our business. And we need information from you and others to help us verify identities in order to prevent money laundering and terrorism.”

To which I say: “Right. Sure you do.” The oh-so-venerable BlueCross of California needs to know my personal info so they can ensure that terrorism is held at bay. I feel safer already. Don’t worry everyone, Blue Cross of California is here to save the day.

The lesson: if any part of a Privacy Policy makes one of your own and current rational, law-abiding, and paying customers laugh out loud at your insolence, you probably want to rethink the policy and person (though it’s likely a committee, isn’t it?) responsible for your privacy policy and draft a new one that doesn’t make a mockery of your company and the customers it seeks to serve.

Privacy policy should be there to protect customers. It’s not there to protect the ass of the company who wrote it, should it find itself being asked for customer records by the NSA.

Summer happened.

This flurry of posts below is an attempt to play catch up on a few places I’ve been, things I’ve seen, and things I think I might have learned.

Sorry, was out having fun.

The most recent trip, this non-bike overnighter to the San Luis Obispo area with Gnat, was an action packed adventure that made me realize something about traveling with bikes: it’s incredibly far easier to travel without bikes. Inside of about 36 hours, we:

- Hiked in Big Sur
- Visited 2 wineries, Eberle and Clautiere, and went on Eberle’s cave tour (note: future home must include secret underground cave with elaborate dining room for entertaining)
- Discovered a hippy-filled Jade festival on the side of road, stopped for tri tip sandwiches
- Saw a few hundred massive sea lions lyin’ on the beachSpent some sunset time in a natural hot spring in the forest
- Got gussied up, and ate like royalty at Garden of Avila
- Drank cosmos and stayed the night at the wonderfully ridiculous Madonna Inn and stayed in this room
- Watched Sunday Morning Cartoons
- Had long breakfast
- Drove home in time for a co-worker’s housewarming party

Phew. If we’d had bikes, we wouldn’t have been able to do half this stuff. Adding one ride to the weekend would have wiped out so much of the other stuff that the weekend would have been immeasurably different.

The threat of theft. The awkward size and scratchable fragility. The challenge in finding others to ride with , and safe routes to ride. The doubling of the amount of clothing one brings on an overnight trip. These, my friends, these are the enemies of the cycling world, making bikes hard to travel with and ridden less frequently. Instead of designing the next anodized titanium/carbon suspension bolt dongle for your spoke bearings, try to fix one of these things instead. Why aren’t we trying to improve the platform, instead of continually focusing on the product?

My Photos

Gnat’s Photos

So this was it. This was the year I attended my first grand tour, the Vuelta a España. I was there for the final 5 stages, and saw the likes of yawn-as-I-win-this-thing Menchov, Scrappy Sastre, the always oh-so-humble Benatti, and Sprintastic Bettini (who dropped out the first day I got there – this was training for him for the World Championships, which he won, so I guess it worked out okay for him).

We had the Angel here at the Vuelta, which was the second time we’ve tried her at this event, and it was an incredibly eye-opening experience. At the Tour of California, we could put a girl in a Specialized Angel outfit, and by the red S logo alone, the crowds would chant for her, calling her the Specialized Angel and clawing each other’s eyes out to be the next in line for a photo.

In Spain, they looked at her curiously, most politely taking pictures from afar, and a few brave souls asked why she was there. Most, even after the explanation, didn’t get it. Few, if any, knew of Specialized, much less the logo alone – despite the fact that two teams that were racing by us each day were on Specialized bikes, and 5 teams were wearing Specialized helmets. The brand is remarkably invisible to the crowds. The reason: the crowds are fans of the sport, but often, not cyclists themselves (except for their around town bikes, of course). And the fans don’t get suckered into the marketing glitz like they do in the USA, or at an event like the Tour de France.

Guerilla marketing like this is relatively easy to execute, but at an event like this, it seems much harder to make the effort effective.

Two incredible highlights from the trip that I fully realize I’m incredibly lucky to have experienced:

1. I got to ride the first ~55km of the stage from Talavera de la Reina to Avila, up the Cat1 climb “Puerto de Mijares”, leaving the starting line about 3 hours before the stage started. When I left, the police were out, the course was fully marked, the streets were empty, and the roadsides were packed with people. And they all cheered me on, as if I were in the race. Was beyond awesome: kids, old men & women, tourists…tons of people who were just there to watch. At one point, climbing the relentless hill, I was flying along real-deal cobblestones while crowds of onlookers yelled at me to “Andale!” and other assorted Spanish terms that I’m sure were encouragement. Or at least, I am imagining so.

2. I got to follow Bingen Fernandez (Cofidis, finished mid-pack) on the final TT stage in the Cofidis team car! Holysnot, that was cool. We rolled around the 20km course at something like 46km/h average speed (which is considered slow, somehow), and I was riding shotgun the entire way listening to the team director call out time splits in French, and taking pictures while leaning out the window. I got a few good shots of Benatti as he passed Bingen on the course near the finish. The ride was entirely unexpected, totally a ‘right place/right time’ kinda thing, and wicked cool.

The better of my photos can be found here

Another fantastic weekend of adventure, complete with a drive through Yosemite to Mammoth Mountain for this year’s High Sierra Century, where we met up with Paul, an old friend from LA, and self-confessed ‘paranoid Jew from Brooklyn’. I was clearly at least partially responsible for the fact that this would be Gnat’s first-ever century. Riding 100 miles is a feat many never achieve at any point in their lives. Riding that distance at 7000ft elevation and above is just goofy. And to make this the first century ever? That takes a special kind of girl. I’m lucky she didn’t kill me. Luckier still that she continues to come out & play with me on weekends and holidays.

I saw a lot fewer Team in Training folks out there (is this fad starting to die? Or just moving away from Century-styled events?), I saw Greg Lemond riding his steel Lemond bike with (gasp!) a Specialized saddle, lots of women (yes, Virginia, the sport is changing), and I saw the standard jumbo flock of unhipsters with their practical helmet mirrors and ancient lycra jerseys & shorts, circa 1982. I don’t mean to make fun of these people, but I do wonder why they miss the chance to splurge on a new pair of shorts for a ride like this. Someone isn’t telling these people they’re missing out.

My Photos

Gnat’s Photos

Took the opportunity to see Eurobike in Germany – the bike trade show that Interbike isn’t. No Vegas glitz, very business, an older demographic of attendees, and an unbelievable amount of trekking, touring, and city bikes. But despite all these bikes designed as a carlternative, almost zero “green marketing”. European cycling doesn’t really bother mentioning the enviro angle in their marketing. To them, it’s obvious. They don’t need to be told that cycling is a viable alternative to driving. It would bike like launching a new campaign here for vegetables with a tagline like “Now proven to be good for you!”.

So imagine if everything we spent on “green marketing” was instead spent on bike lanes? I know those funds come from very different jars, but it’s still a nice idea. It is defeated by a simple, basic fact: we love marketing campaigns that make us feel better about ourselves, and the choices we make when spending our money on new things (sadly, even if they’re just decorations for the garage).

Seriously, are we on a mission to tell people cycling is healthy? Doubt it. They know that already. I’ve heard it said that by raising the awareness of cycling in our own urban environments, we could bring about change. Sorry, I don’t buy that either. What if it’s this: perhaps “green marketing” is nothing more than trying to sell people things that they associate with good health and environmental consciousness, irrespective of their actual effect on the owner’s health, or environment. Grim, huh? I know there are people out there doing great things (horray for them!), but seriously, if we have to pretend that we’re educating people about the health and environmental benefits of cycling, we’re fooling ourselves.

Photos

Yes, that’s right, the venerable Stewart Hayes has gotten hitched. Sorry ladies. Stewart and I shared a metric ton of great adventures during our time at Rotman, and it was awesome to be able to join him for the big day. Momentous occasions really require celebration and a brief pause to savour the moment. Fortune-cookie’d as that may sound, it’s easy to forget, but undeniably worth doing.

Pictures

This was a fantastic, impulsive, and entirely non-bicycle related way to spend a weekend. I was expecting a dozen, maybe 20 people tops. There were over 200. It was mayhem. Gnat and I had a predictably wonderful time.

While out there, I was reminded that everyone should get outside once in a while, and rafting is a great way to do it. While looking around at the inflatable armada around us, I realized something unique about rafting. Just as some allege of those so-called ‘gateway drugs’, this might be an ideal way to introduce a non-sporty-type to the fun that can be had outside. I’m certain that many on this trip would never imagine taking a cycling weekend, or climbing, or trail running. But what if, once outside, they could be persuaded to find more reasons to stay outside. Rafting is one of the most social, approachable-by-anyone, and just-plain-fun adventure sports out there. Sure, money can’t buy happiness. But it can buy a weekend rafting trip, and I dare you to go rafting and not grin the whole damn time.

My Photos

Gnat’s Photos