On Judging a Book by its Cover

We judge books by their covers.

The judgment isn't necessarily fair, and it isn't always accurate, but it is a judgment that we make anyway.

I have loved to read for as long as I can remember. When I was a child, I loved going to the library - or, better yet, the book store - with my mother to find a new book to read. However, if a book were to have any chance of my picking it up and taking it home with me to read, the cover had to look appealing. In my mind, the contents of a novel had no chance of being interesting if its cover were bland and boring.

The only possibility for an insipidly-covered book to make it past my "cover test" was if the book already had a strong reputation, or came highly recommended by a friend or teacher. (This exception was quite fortunate; otherwise I might never have picked up some of my now-favorite classics, like the works of Dickens or Doyle or Dumas or Austen.)

As consumers, we make the same judgment. When we encounter a new, unheard-of brand, we take its packaging as an indicator of its quality. If the physical packaging or product design looks clunky, and we have no other information about the brand, we have little reason to trust the performance of the product or the credibility of the company. If the company's website looks like it hasn't been updated since 1995, it may cause us to wonder what else about the company falls below current standards. If the exterior of a local restaurant is dirty, with bars on the windows and a parking lot overgrown with weeds, we often decide to drive past and eat at a place we know and trust instead.

Of course, this packaging judgment can be overcome, if we find a source of trustworthy information to allay our misgivings. If we learn that a brand uses plain packaging simply to maintain low prices, or to help the environment, we might be persuaded to consider purchasing it. If a friend insists that the product she ordered from an online company is the best product she ever used, we might feel better about ordering something from their outdated-looking website. If a coworker raves about this hole-in-wall restaurant that he found, we might be willing to try it, no matter how fearsome the building appears.

But without that other source of information, consumers often have little to go by besides the packaging. If everything about the packaging indicates lack of quality, consumers have little motivation to try to discover the actual quality of the product's contents.

If you're an unknown brand that is trying to become known, pay attention to your packaging. In the absence of other information about your product, we will judge your product by its cover.

Permission to Buy Your Product

People need permission to buy your product.

Permission from themselves. Permission from their friends, family, religious communities, civic organizations, and sub-cultures. Permission from their peers, colleagues, coworkers, and superiors.

For most routine purchases, for purchases of well-respected brands, and for purchases that are considered to be a "reasonable" cost, this permission isn't usually a hang-up for consumers. Permission has already been granted, in the form of a generally accepted view that this is a "legitimate" purchase.

But for non-standard purchases, for large purchases, for purchases of little-known brands, and for purchases that carry a high "cost" (in terms of price, time, inconvenience, reputation, future success, etc.), permission from self or others isn't automatically guaranteed. And this permission is crucial; without it, the buyer feels like he or she must choose another brand, or abandon the purchase altogether.

Some examples:

• When a straight-A high school senior is considering an unheard-of college while his friends are applying to Ivy League schools, he needs permission to attend this obscure university. He needs permission from himself (that this school, though small, will provide him the best education he could find); permission from his friends (that they can accept that he has chosen an academically challenging college, although it does not have nearly the reputation of their own); and permission from future employers (that a degree from this university will enable him to get a good job in the future).


• When a mom is trying to take better care of the environment and beautify her home while being a good steward of the family's finances, she needs permission to buy the unfamiliar brand of weed killer that is 20% more expensive than the recognized brands but comes in the ergonomically-shaped green bottle with a name and package that sound environmentally friendly. If she is going to pay 20% extra for a brand she doesn't recognize, she first needs permission from herself and her family (by being sure that the product will work well and will be less harmful to the environment).


• When a husband wants to buy an expensive sports car, he needs permission from himself (that he deserves it, that the car is a good deal) and from his wife (that they have enough money to pay for the car, that the car gets good gas mileage, that the car will last the family a long time).

As a marketer, how do you provide this permission for consumers to buy your brand?

First, excellence. Second, communication.

The unknown university needs to be excellent in its academic quality, in the credentials of its professors, in the opportunities it provides to students, in the atmosphere on-campus, and in the success of its graduates. And it needs to communicate that excellence to prospective students, to the parents of prospective students, and to the general public.

The obscure "organic" weed killer needs to kill weeds effectively, and needs to do so with less environmental impact than the standard brands. And it needs to communicate to consumers - on its packaging, on its website, and in its advertising - exactly how its ingredients are better for the environment and how its performance compares to the leading brands.

The luxury sports car needs to provide an exceptional, enduring, and fuel-efficient driving experience. And it needs to communicate its performance, its ratings, its gas mileage, and its value through its marketing materials, advertising, and personal sales.

With your own brand - especially if you represent a new company, or a new product, or a new brand - be excellent, and communicate. Give people permission to buy your product.

Creating for Your Audience

Ad Age published a white paper this week called "Shiny New Things", exploring the influence of those customers known as the "early adopters".

The term "early adopters" was introduced in 1962 as the valued second category in Everett Rogers' diffusion of innovations theory. The theory asserts that all consumers can be grouped into one of five categories - innovators, early adopters, early majority, late majority, and laggards, consecutively - according to their willingness and quickness to adopt new ideas and products.


Rogers' diffusion of innovations curve. From the Wikimedia Commons.
For a good, brief online explanation of these five categories, I recommend ProvenModels.com/570.

Of these five categories, the early adopters are the consumers whom many marketers seek to impress when they release new products (hence the motivation behind Ad Age's white paper). Early adopters are revered as the consumers who can "make or break" a product's success. They are the ones who will tell the rest of the world whether the product is worth buying or not. They tell the world this by their words (increasingly so, in the days of social media), but also by their actions (are they seen actually wearing and using the new product or brand?). And they are the ones to whom the rest of the world listens.

(Of course, very few brands or products would do well to target the early adopters exclusively. As Seth Godin is quoted as saying in the Ad Age white paper [and in his blog], "if you want to stick around for a while, you need to make the difficult sales to the middle of the market or have a ready supply of new stuff ready to entertain the never-satisfied early adopters.")

The Ad Age white paper expanded on Rogers' theory by sharing findings from a study done for Serena Software that dissected the diffusion of innovations curve beyond its original five categories. The Serena Software study broke the "early adopters" segment into five micro-segments of its own by characteristic (rather than by adoption rate):

• Alphas - "These are the tech elite, immersed in technology. Alphas see technology as having a significant, positive impact on their lives and ability to communicate. At work, they are delegators, developing solutions to hand off."


• Accidental - "Not as comfortable with technology as Alphas, Accidentals still have a deep understanding of how technology can improve their lives. With a less direct approach at work, they consider technology a tool to solve problems, but not the key to everything."


• Practical - "Using all the technology that most other types are excited about, but they are less enthusiastic about the devices. They typically report to the Alphas and Accidentals at work, but are focused on implementation."


• Balanced - "Although similar to Accidentals, they do not place technology or work at the center of their lives. Approaching their jobs as a means to fund other things they enjoy, this group leads more relaxed lives than other types, and are hesitant to adopt emerging technology until they see how it relates to their personal lives. The most likely to be students and the least likely to be workaholics."


• Lite - "The most resistant to adopting new technologies before they are mainstream, they are less likely to take risks, actively solve problems or create efficiency. At work, they may adopt a new process once it is proven effective in another department. The most risk averse segment in relationship to technology, their work life, and at home."

These five micro-segments intrigue me. I want to discover how I can reach these customers - that is, how I can design products that fit their needs (rather than trying to convince them to buy a product that they really don't need - a much more difficult and much less honorable sell).

If I were to create a product with these five groups in mind, here are the steps (and priorities) that I would take:

1. Build for the Accidental. These are the consumers who see technology as tools, not as toys. Accidentals expect new technology to solve a problem. They will be my most valuable critics - the ones who tell me whether a new product is actually worth the materials from which it is made. They will tell me if a product actually meets a need in consumers' lives. If my product is going to be worthwhile, it needs to work for the Accidentals.


2. Support for the Practical. The Practicals are the ones who implement the technology, and are responsible for making sure that it works for their (or their organization's) needs. They use all the new technology, but they rarely get excited about it - they have to work around all the bugs, and make the solutions work for their supervisors or clients. Having technical support - especially, letting them tell me where all of the quirks and faulty solutions are, and then working my hardest to correct those things - will be key for these folks. The Practicals will be the ones who tell me how to make my product function the best.


3. Design for the Alphas. The Alphas get excited about technology, and are most likely to agree that technology has a positive impact on the world. If a new product has some new, better feature, and if some group of fanboys say that the product will be the next great thing, the Alphas will eagerly adopt the product, expecting great solutions. For this group, products should have good functionality, but also good form. Sleek design and intuitive user interface, added to great features, indicate quality to Alphas. If I care about design, I should design products that Alphas would be proud to carry.


4. Connect for the Balanced. These guys care about life, relationships, and well-being outside of work. They will adopt new technology if it improves the quality of their personal lives and social interactions. If my new product is a time pit or an end in itself, the Balanced won't accept it. My product should help them to simplify their lives, or connect with friends, or save time for the important things. If my product can possibly benefit people in a personal or social context, I should look to the Balanced to see how I can make it happen.

If I can create a product that meets these consumers' demands in terms of functionality, support, design, and connectedness, then I can sleep at night feeling that I've created a product worth buying. If my product satisfies the needs of these four micro-segments, and if the rest of my marketing mix can deliver my product to the world, then my product has a chance of being adopted by the other groups from Rogers' bell curve.