A Better ClapTrap™

“Build a better mouse trap and the world will beat a path to your door,” is a phrase attributed to the poet Ralph Waldo Emerson. He probably didn’t say it, but it’s entered the language anyway.

What he did write in 1855 was this, “If a man can write a better book, preach a better sermon, or make a better mousetrap than his neighbour you will find a broad hard-beaten road to his house, though it be in the woods.”

Either way, it’s pretty much the same thought.

I’ve never read any of Emerson’s poetry so I have no opinion on his merits as a poet, but I have a definite opinion on the merits of his marketing strategy.

Claptrap!

What amazes me about this piece of advice, apart from the phrase’s longevity, is just what spectacularly dreadful advice it is.

And that’s not even with the benefit of hindsight.

All the evidence suggests it was terrible advice when Emerson wrote the line, and we can validate this by looking at product innovation from the period.

And what a rich period it was for innovation -- resulting in the creation of substantial new industries.

For example, in 1846, the first American patent for the sewing machine was granted to Elias Howe, although it took until 1854 for him to enjoy any substantial earnings from the patent, and then only after a series of legal battles.

The zipper, first patented in 1851, faced an even longer struggle and did not achieve any meaningful commercial success till the 1930s.

Rather than paths being beaten to the respective inventors’ doors, the establishment of these industries was characterized by hardheaded  tenacity.

And what if you build a better mousetrap today?

We’re talking Apple or Dyson better, the Aston Martin of mousetraps.

Let’s call it ClapTrap™   -- it’s catchy.

Would you follow Emerson’s advice and wait for customers to come knocking?

I wouldn’t.

I’d climb the nearest roof and holler real loud, build the website and fire up a social media campaign.

I’d pay guys to dress in cat suits and picket the town hall, with placards proclaiming: ClapTrap stealing our jobs.

Or persuade a celeb to endorse ClapTrap™, and watch copy-cat celebrity rodent infestation stories, bump Lindsay’s relapses off Entertainment Tonight.

Now ClapTrap™’s hot, sales take-off, and you’re laughing all the way to the bank, in the bank, and leaving the bank.

Until you get blindsided by a smear campaign from the category leader, claiming ClapTrap™, is produced with child labour and covered in lead paint.

When even this libellous accusation fails to dent sales, an ex employee with suspiciously deep pockets files a claim alleging patent infringement.

And sales still skyrocket.

Then a competitor starts making knockoffs in China, produced with child labour and covered in lead paint, but substantially discounted and almost as effective as the original.

Now sales fall of a cliff, while your lawyer’s bills skyrocket.

You’ve got problems you’d never have if you’d only waited for the world to beat a path to your door.

But you’ve also got the ClapTrap™ brand, and a hard-won reputation as an entrepreneur to watch.

So how did Emerson get it so wrong?

Even more intriguingly, if his thinking is so misguided, why do so many people know the line?

Why am I writing about it some 150 years after he wrote it?

I think the answer is we want his line to be true.

We want to live in a world where the superior product always triumphs, where massive ad budgets don’t perpetuate the mundane, and quality not hype, is what engages our attention.

The line tells it the way it should be.

The way we wish it was.

And that, if not poetry, is undeniably poetic.

We Are all Plagiarists Now!

When I googled “We are all plagiarists now” I got 8 hits. So the title isn’t original but I kept it anyway.

Incidentally, neither is it plagiarism.

I’m not trying to pass it off as original, so there's no intent to deceive, although a citation would be good manners*.

It’s not just Lady GaGa who gets hit with charges of plagiarism.

Plagiarism.org wants to prevent it in high schools, which is laudable.

Sites like copyscape.com claim to be able to detect it, I have no idea how well it works, but I’m pretty sure no one can detect paraphrasing.

Writers have always stolen from each other.

Hence when Oscar Wilde remarked, “I wish I had said that”, Whistler famously quipped “You will Oscar you will”.

To stop it getting out of hand, there’s an unwritten rule.

You can steal the idea, but you can’t steal the phrase.

It’s a bit unfair if you ask me.

If Duchamp can hang a urinal and get away with it, why can’t I nick a page of Ogilvy, re-print it in a different typeface and color and take the credit?

Critics could say, “The exquisite combination of chartreuse and Van Doesburg sheds new illumination on the subjunctive clause.”

The Flarf movement approaches this, by turning found language mostly from the internet, into random poetry which is sometimes funny, sometimes bad, and usually forgettable.

A description which also applies to the output of most agencies -- appropriate perhaps when the Flarf type mash up is not unknown to advertising.

In fact, the unwritten rule of advertising is that you can steal from a movie, book or just about anything as long as you don’t steal from another ad.

The principle at stake beneath this smidgeon of idealism is real.

It is -- that originality sells.

So finding that sliver of originality appropriate to your client and their product is the holy grail of advertising.

However, I think the internet is changing our notion of originality, from what we might call pure originality of the lone genius in an attic type, to a more widespread adaptive or collaborative type of originality.

Remember those Youtube mash ups from a few years ago?

If you haven’t seen A few Good Creative Men an old favorite from 2007, you must be new to the industry.

While the Internet transforms our view of what constitutes originality, paradoxically it’s made it easier to both plagiarize and detect plagiarism.

You can steal ideas from ads of the world or you can use it to check you’re not inadvertently ripping-off ideas.

That seems like a pretty level playing field to me.

So are we are all plagiarists now?

Or have we always been?

* www.slate.com

The Trouble With Content

I admit it, I started out in agencies when the digital guys worked in a hole round the back somewhere and it was cool to write TV. So hailing from a traditional agency background I write copy not content, and even though 80% of the work I do now is digital, I still call myself a copywriter, not a content writer.

And if people refer to me as the latter, I correct them.

Trust me; it’s an uphill battle keeping this content thing at bay, so why bother?

Well, if you think I’m splitting hairs, you’re wrong.

Here’s why I bother.

Content undermines the creative process because the problem with content is context.

Content is just too close to contents.

And logically, the contents of anything must be contained in something.

Whether it’s a book, or a can of tomatoes, content needs a container.

And I would say four out of five websites are built that way.

That is to say designed first and then filled with content, tomatoes, whatever..

I think the word encourages people, unconsciously perhaps, to think and work that way.

That is to build a site and fill it –as opposed to building it around a core idea or functionality.

You might as well refer to a skeleton as the body’s content.

I think it’s pretty clear it’s much more than that.

So I think content has something to do with the poor standard of most websites.

And I’ll continue to write copy.

One thing’s for sure.

There’s a ton of difference between content and meaning.

Regards is Fine

I’m getting a disturbing amount of email with inspirational quotations tacked on as a sign off. Not being a mean spirited guy, when it’s from a plumber, chiropractor, or widget maker I let it go; on the basis that they are not in the communications business.

But I find it annoying when creative professionals use this device.

I got one the other day from a designer who used this sign off:

“Imagination is more powerful than knowledge” – Albert Einstein.

I thought it was hilarious.

I imagine when Einstein said this he was encouraging individuals to use their  individual imaginations by referring to the power of the collective imagination.

But why bother to do that when you can just co-opt a quote from the imagination of a genius?

Talk about unintentional irony.

What do his clients' make of this?

a) He knows who Einstein is?

b) He doesn't have much knowledge but he has imagination and Einstien says it's OK?

c) I give up..

If you really want your email to inspire, shouldn’t the inspiration come from words you’ve written yourself, especially if you’re selling creative services?

And if the words in your email are inspiring, I think it’s enough to sign off with a simple:

Regards,

Cheers,

Sincerely,

How Big is Big?

Sometime in 1929 or thereabouts, a couple of men named John J. Raskob and Pierre S. du Pont had what was a truly big idea. Of course as with any truly big idea there were formidable obstacles to over come.

For one, they would have to push technology to its limits.

For another it was the heart of the Great Depression and capital was hard to come by, even for a couple of plutocrats, which they were.

It was their vision and they were men accustomed to getting what they wanted, so nothing was going to stop them.

They didn’t mess around with boards or committees and the plans were drawn up and approved in a couple of weeks.

In January 1930 they set to work in earnest.

One year and 45 days later on May 1st 1931, the ribbon was cut.

With the help of over 3000 workers, including hundreds of Mohawks mainly from Canada who built most of the iron work, the 102 storey Empire State Building was now the world’s tallest building.

It was a truly big idea.

But it wasn’t the really big idea.

The really big idea was the mast on the top of the building.

The mast was to function as a mooring for airships, a fairly popular form of transport until the tragic inferno that engulfed the Hindenburg in 1937.

The idea was passengers would embark, or disembark, from an airship terminal just an elevator ride from Fifth Avenue and the heart of Manhattan.

It was a brilliant idea, and it didn't work.

Records differ as to how many attempts were made in trials to moor an airship to the mast, but they all agree that the feat was never accomplished.

Ironically, one of the factors that prevented it was the updraft caused by the building itself.

So to some extent a truly big idea contributed to the failure of an even bigger idea.

Big ideas are like that, they’re risky.

They disrupt the status quo and sometimes they even kill each other.

So the next time anyone claims to have a big idea, then mentions your brand and some c-list celeb in the same breath, just say no and ask them to get dangerous.

Creativity’s Insidious

I met a friend after my yoga class, “That class nearly killed me” I said. My friend said, “You should be getting pretty good by now.”

Meaning, I think, that since I’ve been doing yoga for about 10 years now, I should be better at it, or it shouldn’t hurt so much.

But Yoga isn’t like that.

It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing it, it doesn’t get any easier.

So I tried explaining that I’m better than when I started, but not that much better.

Because Yoga’s insidious.

With most physical activities you psyche yourself up to push yourself.

Take running, you say to yourself, today I’m going to run faster, or further, or both.

You have times and distances to compare, you can track progress.

It’s the same with weights, or rowing, or cycling.

But with yoga you’re only vaguely aware of progress.

There are no accepted metrics for tracking it, so what happens occurs gradually, imperceptibly, insidiously.

And what happens is that as you gain a little flexibility, your body wants to gain a bit more, and you work harder without consciously deciding to.

So even though you’re getting fitter and more flexible the effort you make doesn’t diminish, it actually increases.

Being creative is like doing yoga.

It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing it, it doesn’t get any easier.

And what happens is that as you develop a little creativity, your mind wants to gain a bit more, and you work harder without consciously deciding to.

And the effort you make doesn’t diminish; it actually increases, because you know that the work can always be that little bit better.

Because creativity’s insidious, just like yoga.