Andrew Warner, the impresario of Mixergy, was kind enough to interview me live on the site yesterday. His is an excellent site for entrepreneurs, and he interviews entrepreneurs who hopefully have something to teach other entrepreneurs. It’s a terrific site, and you should check it out!
In the meantime, you can watch the interview we did. It was fun to do so hopefully, it’s fun to watch.
Tomorrow through Friday, I’m lucky enough once again to be going to the TED conference in Long Beach. I’m not speaking this year, but I am looking forward to being part of all the great conversations and discussions that swirl throughout the place. It’s a truly amazing thing to participate in and contribute to.
It does remind me though that we launched Live 2.0 at TED-U last year! What a great forum for launch it was, too. And while I’m thinking of it, I’d like to thank all the contributors, including people like Stewart Copeland of The Police, Carmen Ruest of Cirque Du Soleil, Ben Zander, Greg Sandow and Terry Teachout of the Wall Street Journal, Jeff Marx of Avenue Q fame, and all the others who’ve contributed, not to mention all the readers, posters, commenters and re-tweeters.
And while I’m marking the anniversary, here’s a video re-creation of that TED talk, which I consider to be the founding idea of Live 2.0. Take a look:
Like many of you, I watched the Super Bowl yesterday, and it was a pretty terrific game.
Typically, I ignore (or fast forward through) commercials, but since the Super Bowl commercials are noteworthy, I actually paid attention to them. I’m not particularly interested in breaking down which ones worked, etc., (though for my money, in terms of effective marketing, this one was by far the best. I’ll never buy boxed flowers again.
), but I noticed something.
Most of the commercials looked as though they were made by the same agency, with the same actors, with roughly the same tone. They centered more or less on young-ish, nebbishy, unshaven men acting like helpless morons. Observe:
Ok, at least those guys were mostly shaven. This next one is a commercial for tires, but still seems to rely on the silliness and stupidity of its potential buyers:
These guys are just pathetic losers:
This guy looks like he’s had a lobotomy or might be a mental patient escaped from a hospital:
And finally, I think I got a little dumber just by sitting through this one:
A few years ago, Seth Godin wrote a book called “All Marketers Are Liars.” Of course, his target audience for the book was marketers. It wasn’t the usual Seth Godin success because, as he later said, he had insulted his target market. He changed the title to “All Marketers Tell Stories.” Not as snappy a title, but by that time, he was just making a point anyway.
It puzzles me that so many of these commercials, quite obviously aimed at what these companies imagine to be their target market, don’t just use humor; they actually insult the target market. You are stupid, you are spineless, you are a bit of a loser, you’d bury yourself in a casket for the chance to eat Doritos. I’m not saying it’s not fun to laugh at morons doing insane hijinks for 30 seconds; there used to be a show all about that. It was called The Three Stooges. I’m just saying that not many people want to see themselves as the stooge.
Here’s a counter-example. Same target audience, uses humor, special effects and all that, but also identifies a problem and a solution for the target audience:
You might not REALLY be as awesome as Timothy Richmond (from the commercial), but we all do like to think of ourselves as competent, even though sometimes we need a little help with things like buying a car.
Advertising like this is dying. These are the same old tricks and stunts they’ve been doing at the Super Bowl for probably 20 years now. No small part of the fatigue here, I believe, is that many of these companies assume they understand the person watching the Super Bowl (even though in reality half of everyone in America watches the Super Bowl) when their understanding is pretty superficial.
Of course, I’m on record as saying that even effectively designed advertising is decreasingly effective because people can so easily tune it out, but the Super Bowl may actually be the exception. This is a time when people have somehow been convinced to watch the commercials. It’s like every night in the 50s through 70s all over again!
And perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe guys do want to think of themselves as useless morons, or maybe the real target audience is women and it’s women who want to think of men as useless morons. I don’t see that being true either way. It may very well be that these companies see their customers as useless morons, and if that’s the case, then the low return on investment that Super Bowl ads typically have is well deserved.
What I’m saying is simply this: are you communicating to your audience or to some pre-conceived idea of your audience?
Goldstar’s John Loken forwarded me a blurb from the New Yorker by Alex Ross that included the following graph:

From the League of Orchestras, via the New Yorker
So this graph shows the percentage of people of different generations level of participation in attending classical music as they age.
From the point of view of what it portends for the future, there’s one word I’d use to describe the picture: bummer. My group, Gen X, would historically be expected to turn upward in one of those big bumps you see for the rest of the generations at about age 40 to 50, but instead, there’s a clear downward kink at age 30 from which we haven’t picked up the slack.
But even if we do, we’re just not big enough. Boomers outnumber us dramatically, so even if we returned to early boomers participation levels, it would still represent a drop off.
I feel like one of the TV networks at 8:01 on election night when it’s clear that one guy is going to win in a landslide: I’m calling it early. Gen X will not rise to the levels of previous generations participation, and Gen Y will be even worse.
What does it mean? Only this: if the classical music institutions stay essentially as they are, many will fold in the next decade or so. Essentially, the industry as we know it will be swept away.
What’s left? Only this: something else.
You can’t save what is currently out there. All you can do if you want to see classical music as a live form continue to live (and hopefully even thrive) is create something else from the assets that currently exist.
There’s no more time to debate ‘if.’
“What is the intrinsic value of the product or service?”
So says Lynda Resnick, creator of POM Wonderful pomegranate juice, as quoted by Harvey Mackay in his most recent column.
What does intrinsic value mean? In developing your product and your way of talking about the product, Resnick says you should “recognize above all that consumers aren’t stupid. They are looking for value, honesty, respect and occasionally, fun.” And while I’d say that the ‘fun’ part of the equation is more than just occasional, I’d agree with the whole list.
And while I suppose it’s easy enough to play with the meaning of “intrinsic” til whatever you happen to be doing is delivering “intrinsic value,” you’re still not going to see the benefits of this philosophy until you discover what makes your product special to consumers, both the ones you have and the ones you want.
Are you listening, orchestras of America?
If it can work for pistachios, pomegranates and collectible plates, it can work for great music.
We’ve been talking a lot lately about organizations with long and storied histories on the verge of potentially catastrophic change, like the Philadelphia and Cleveland Orchestras and the Pasadena Playhouse.
But as you might know, I see this time in our history as not merely an especially nasty recession, but what I have been calling a ‘frame-breaking’ or a ‘remaking.’ I quoted Jeff Jarvis a few weeks ago as saying that we’re moving from the industrial age to “whatever comes next.” But that’s cool with me because I’m a future-oriented person, eager to see what’s next.
Maybe that’s naive. After all, in 1935, “what’s next” was pretty freakin’ awful. Maybe those who look to an unknown future with a certain amount of dread have the right idea. After all, what do we know about it?

This is what "Not to Be" Looks Like...
When Hamlet contemplated taking the revenge his father’s ghost demanded, he was ready to spring into action until…until he realized that he had no idea what would happen when he made that leap. Taking action would be easy, he said, if only we knew what was coming next: “Ay, there’s the rub.” In other words, that’s the problem.
Please continue, Sweet Prince:
“The undiscovered country” Hamlet talks about means, for us, the future economy. If you’re in the live entertainment business today, the question you face is whether the “dread of something after the death” of our current economy “makes you rather bear the ills” of decline “than fly to others that we know not of.”
Seth Godin recently said, “We need to get past this idea of saving [things like newspapers, the record industry, etc.], because the status quo is leaving the building, and quickly. Not just in print of course, but in your industry too.”
I’d add that the only people who should be in the business of saving the past are museums.
The 20th century is dead and gone. The body isn’t even warm anymore. The opportunity to cling to its fading past expired in fall 2008.
So the question is to be or not to be. To be vital and relevant in our time, or not to be. To be one of the people who lead our industry to a new place of prosperity and prominence or not to be. To be a builder of that “undiscovered country,” that “whatever comes next” or not to be. To be standing when this is over or not to be.
That’s the question.
The tendency toward arrogance and self-satisfaction is so natural. People start with a pretty high opinion of themselves, and even the slightest evidence they’re right is enough to prove the case. And many people have a hard time feeling good about themselves without also looking down on you and me. And that small seed that can destroy companies, organizations and nations.
No one I’ve ever met is immune to this, so if you want you organization to succeed, you’ll probably need to make a conscious effort to keep the roots of arrogance and smugness from taking hold. I find this quote, from T.S. Eliot’s play, The Cocktail Party, helps:
“Half the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important. They don’t mean to do harm– but the harm does not interest them. Or they do not see it, or they justify it because they are absorbed in the endless struggle to think well of themselves.”
There’s no useful purpose for arrogance in any organization. Confidence, definitely. A little swagger, as the ballplayers say, sure. But arrogance goes past believing in yourself and into believing you’re a superior sub-species to all the troglodytes around you.
I was very sad to hear that the Pasadena Playhouse, just a few blocks away from the Goldstar office, will be closing down and has already laid off the entire staff. (Of course, the building is still a historic landmark and will be used at some point by another performing organization, or a re-organized version of the same one, almost doubtlessly.)
The Playhouse had worked with Goldstar on and off for years, sometimes wisely, sometimes not so wisely. I could also take justified pot shots at their programming, but for the moment, I’m going to consider the peanut gallery closed as to the specifics of What Went Wrong in Pasadena and confine myself to the more general principles of what this episode shows us.
It does not, as Charles McNulty of the LA Times believes, indicate that we should move toward a “poorer theatre.” If you want to see this vision of a poorer theatre realized, just go to El Molino Avenue in Pasadena in a few weeks and look through the dark windows of the Playhouse. I know, I know, he means theatres should be poor in spirit, and I certainly agree that focusing on fancy lobbies isn’t the key to success.

Our Best to Our Neighbors at the Pasadena Playhouse
But why shouldn’t theatres be prosperous?
Why shouldn’t theatres design themselves to be relevant to an audience?
In short, the story of the Pasadena Playhouse is the same story at every live entertainment organization anywhere in the world: you win when you bring something special to a group of people who are interested in seeing it. And, by the way, you’ve got to keep an eye on the business, to see that it’s managed prudently. Each of these three things is necessary: you must deliver something special; you must find and cultivate an audience that loves that something special; and you’ve got to keep your head on straight about the profit and loss statement.
Each of these is a necessary but not sufficient condition.
You can’t “discover” that you’ve got $1.5 million in debts that nobody knew about. Neglecting the financial side of a non-profit organization is a disgrace and a violation of the public trust. And if you take the mission of the organization seriously, you will take care of it because it’s obvious that having even just a little black ink at the end of each month is the best insurance policy for the survival and propagation of whatever that organization’s mission is.
McNulty, though, thinks that the problem is that “the consumerist model continues its stranglehold” on the theatre. “Consumerist” is a vague term, but I suppose he means an orientation that puts sales above art.
But here’s the problem with this world view: these are not two separate things. Some people would advocate this false choice, between attracting paying customers and creating something great. It’s as Zen teachers for years have been instructing their students, usually accompanied by a whack on the side of the head: “Not two!”
These are not two things. They are one thing. Being audience-oriented means binding the creative spirit of the work to the aspirations of the audience. You’re not there to pander to them, and you’re not there to condescend to them. You’re there to take them someplace they didn’t know they wanted to go, but do now.
And at the same time, show some respect for the work and the audience by not wasting the resources you’ve been given to bring it all together. Use resources, yes. Take risks, yes. Make big investments when it matters. Do something experimental. Hell, dance among folding chairs if you must, but do it FOR the audience. Don’t do it AT the audience.
In many ways, Charles and I agree. He says, for example, “Give the people something that they really need and they’ll find a way to afford it.” Absolutely right. But then he follows that with, “The challenge is getting them to sample what they might not know to be good for them.” Suffering from the Great Performance Delusion, a mindset that sees people as too dim to know what’s “good for them” may simply be an advanced case of self-importance, not artistic greatness.
The UK’s Charlie Brooker does a news report about the format of news reports, and you realize that what he’s saying SOUNDS like something you’ve heard a thousand times (on the news) while he actually manages to say nothing at all. It’s hysterical.
It also reminds me of how easy it is for whole industries to get into formulas. Our industry certainly does: glossy brochure announcing the season; big focus on revving up the season subscribers; same old selling points for the games/shows/performances as the year goes on.
Anyway, this is worth watching just because it’s funny (in a dry British way…give it a minute) and because, if you hate the news like I do, it will remind you why:
I was honored to get a chance to speak with Frank Eliason (of Comcast Cares and @comcast fame). Our conversation will be in next month’s long-awaited Customer Service Edition of Live 2.0.
Today, Frank is talking about Seth Godin’s new book Linchpin and about whether Social Media in itself is a fundamental shift in customer service.
My answer to that is that the Internet was the fundamental shift, and social media (as defined by Twitter, Facebook, etc.) are just the most recent fruit of that tree. There will be others. They will make Facebook look like GeoCities.
Don’t believe me?
Consider what Tim Berners-Lee (the inventor of the World Wide Web) is describing here:
Consider a web where, as a rule, data is connected to data in just about every direction. It’s not hard to imagine the shift. Just a few years ago, most of the content on the web was just unrelated pictures and words. Today, semantic connections between people and places and places and things are there in ways that weren’t possible before.
I wish I could give a better example here. I remember being a little confused but intrigued at TED last year when Sir Tim did this presentation. It’s hard to give a very concrete example, but imagine Wikipedia, with its millions and millions of relationships between different things and what they are about, extended to everything, everywhere.
It’s a few years off, so I give you permission to sleep on this for the moment, but don’t think for a moment that fundamental shifts will end with what’s happening on the now-popular “social media” sites. They won’t!