If you’ve ever attended a spouse’s office party, you’ve probably found yourself staring at your drink after one employee says something like, “Yeah, but don’t ever give Bob a glass of 7-Up!,” and everyone else in the room collapses into convulsions of hysterical laughter. When the laughter dies down, your blank expression is answered with a ‘It’s a long story … I’ll tell you later.”
FEATURING BENEFITS
Recommendations to emphasize benefits rather then features when communicating are so old that I think they may date back to cavemen. Still, some marketers don’t understand the difference, so they miss out on an opportunity to connect more powerfully with their audiences.
Simply put, a feature is some aspect of your product or service. A benefit is what makes it a good or useful thing. If a bank tells you that they have 24-hour ATM access, they’re calling attention to a feature. If an automaker mentions stability control, that’s a feature.
IT’S YOUR PROBLEM, NOT THEIRS
Every now and then, I’ll get a request from a client to write something that clarifies some existing instructions or procedures. When I ask the reason for the clarification, I’m nearly always told that the customers or other audience just doesn’t get it. They just don’t understand. They aren’t acting the way we want them to act, or following the steps in the order we prefer.
My job then becomes crafting magic words that will transform these miscreants into conformists. And it’s nearly always a waste of time.
JANET IN THE SHOWER
Alfred Hitchcock’s most-loved movies are nearing their 50th birthdays. And while the years since classics like “Rear Window” and “The Birds” have seen hundreds of horror films, few even begin to approach the visceral terror that Sir Alfred could stir. How could that be, given that today’s movies offer new levels of blood, gore and special effects?
Simple. He knew that the most effective horror wasn’t what played out on the screen. It was what happened inside the viewer’s mind. Take Janet Leigh’s demise in “Psycho.” Today’s director would spare no expense in giving us a colorful glimpse into Miss Leigh’s innards as Anthony Perkins performed his crude dissection. Blood, bile, and the occasional organ would splatter on the lens, leading us to rethink the gallon of Coke and pound of Raisinets we downed during the coming attractions.
What you say, what they see
One of my favorite stories about word choices is the one about the hospital that decided to open a walk-in clinic to compete with local freestanding clinics. The medical staffers who served on the hospital’s board chose to call it an “ambulatory” clinic, because to medical folks, “ambulatory” means that an individual is capable of walking.
The expected business didn’t materialize, and the hospital didn’t understand why consumers weren’t flocking through the doors. So they conducted a little bit of research and uncovered the reason: consumers saw the word “ambulatory” and assumed that it was intended for patients who arrived in ambulances.
Un-welcome signs
I’m not sure that a Welcome mat in front of a business ever made anyone feel truly welcome, or a notation on a receipt saying that it has been someone’s pleasure to serve you has the power to overcome lackluster or indifferent service.
But I’ve seen plenty of signs in businesses that told me my business really wasn’t welcomed or appreciated.