Allison Cash

This is a guest post written by Allison Cash, Vice President of Marketing for Tenaya, LLC., makers of MADE organic drinks.  With names like Cranberry Limeade and Pomegranate Lemonade, these yummy beverages are crafted from certified organic juice, teas, and other natural ingredients.

How do you advertise authenticity?  A tale of a small, small drink company in a very big beverage world.

Seems like an oxymoron, right?  To advertise authenticity sounds off base, off-color and at least partially impossible.  But our little organic drink company is doing just that – or trying.

In a lot of ways our story starts very similar to many other entrepreneurial stories.  A guy, an idea, a little bit of money and a whole lot of energy.  You mix these ingredients up and get a product, a brand, and our little company.  MADE, organic refreshment from green tea and fruit juice blended together in perfect harmony. That’s our drink.

We like to think of ourselves as the little company that can, the small train puffing along and never stopping.  Betting on showing up and betting on people giving a damn.  So far, so good. There have been enough fans cheering along the tracks to keep us going.

But the challenge stares us in the face every day.  I laughed the other day at the irony of it all as I sat in my car and looked in my rearview mirror and saw a giant, red truck blocking me into my spot.  The truck was unloading and servicing a nearby convenience store.  This truck was full of beverages, chock full. I laughed because I am used to being in that very spot as a brand.  Trapped in a little corner by the big guys who drive the big trucks.  Yet, I smiled as I wiggled out of the parking spot just like MADE is wiggling onto shelves.

One of the biggest challenges we face is the day-to-day fight for shelf space.  This fight is bare fisted and tough.  There is only a certain amount of shelf space in this beloved world of ours and everyone wants it. We want it and little by little we get it.

We get the space by delivering the basics – good product at the right price that makes people grin when they drink it. We keep the space because just enough people are ready to purchase organic products in this competitive category.  And we keep going back, every day.

We plan and we plot.  But mostly we keep pounding the drum.  Every day.  As a marketer, I am continually creating interest and telling our story. That is the authenticity piece. The story is true. Our little company is made up of three people, that’s all.  We make MADE so thirsty people don’t have to, really.

We have used the basic tools – public relations, social media, even a tiny bit of paid media.  However, it really isn’t about the tools.  For us, it is about the consistent message of MADE being organic refreshment.  Being a small company has made the blurred boundaries of corporate and consumer a plus, we talk directly to the thirsty people we seek.  It is word of mouth. It is literally me or Charley telling our network of friends and family through one-on-one conversations, facebook and twitter about MADE. For the trade we do the same thing, along with our broker network, we tell the story of MADE. Again, the medium becomes invisible, the message goes out and we get up the next day and beat the drum again.

About our guest:
Allison Cash does marketing for Tenaya, the makers of MADE. A somewhat reluctant marketer, she comes from an advertising background, helping some of the biggest brands bring their messages to the market. She believes in organics and bringing relevant products to the market so more people can include organics in their everyday life. She counts Wendell Berry as a favorite author and Big Love as a favorite show. Constantly looking for a more organic way to do anything keeps her busy, along with her husband and two children.

• Anticipate: flaws, lack of functionality, holes in offering suites
• Mitigate: lessen the impact or importance of flaws or weak benefits
• Prepare: plan for competitive or consumer interest group response
• Solve: know what issues are a priority, and why
• Resolve: have a target goal/benchmark of achievement

If you’re a company offering products or services, you’d better know how important that consumer perspective (voice of the customer, VOC) is to the growth and longevity of your business. If you’re not actively seeking, synthesizing, analyzing, and identifying valuable customer data, then let me be the one to tell you: you’re on a one-way trip to irrelevance.

Nobody uses products that aren’t simple, convenient, intuitive, relevant, fulfilling. No one subscribes to services that are cumbersome, circuitous, complicated, cause the customer to bear brunt, and don’t meet target needs.  Unaddressed, these issues serve as communication roadblocks, essentially sending your customers the message “You really don’t matter.”

In other words:  If you’re not listening to what your customers are saying and building that insight iteratively back into your culture and product or service development, you won’t have to worry about them being your customers for very long. You’ll be relieved of that little problem. And likely many other little problems, if those customers share their experiences within their networks or assert their viewpoints in public (online) venues.  Personal opinion/ratings are incredibly influential, whether shared between close friends or semi-anonymously in customer comments or reviews.

Which is precisely what I’ll endeavor to do here, hopefully avoiding crossing the line into “rant” territory.

I am a very satisfied customer of Veridian Credit Union.  Adam and Amy there are my peeps; I have their email addresses and Adam once called to personally thank me for notifying them of a problem at a kiosk one day.  Generally speaking, banking is a necessity and the elements of choice and benefits are negligible, but I feel very good about our relationship with Veridian.

By contrast, I don’t have a relationship with Wells Fargo. About 7 years ago, we were customers of theirs. There was no relationship, but rather cyclical transactions.

Three years ago, after satisfying a small loan, I personally visited a branch and closed our account. Twelve months later, we received a $25 service fee for that same account. I came to learn our account was never really closed, and we were charged for the privilege of holding an account.

Yes, that’s right. Charged $25 for an account I had closed one year earlier. An account with zero balance that had shown no activity for over 12 months.

Re-read paragraph above. Yes, folks, this happened again in 2007. Re-visit branch; again request closure; repeat assurances of said closure, yada yada. I leave feeling smug and vindicated because hey, I’m very comfortable asserting myself with service institutions and providing rational, evidence-based debate.

But it gets better. Or worse. So just this month, in 2009, *it happened AGAIN*. Just last week, a $25 fee was charged by Wells Fargo. Ostensibly on the very account that had been closed (at least to the fullest of my control) twice before.  Details:

• I had to narrate this whole sordid story to a new (phone center) person with no vested interest in my satisfaction.
• My deductive powers of reasoning tell me we’ve been at credit risk for three years, unaware of an open account that could have been accessed by someone.
• We have the insult of a third $25 fee assessment
• The $25 fee can’t be returned to me electronically, I must wait for a check. Which I then have to physically deposit (nobody does that anymore, right?) in Veridian.
• I experienced unease giving personal identification information (DOB, address, SS#, mother’s maiden name, etc.) to phone center, given Wells Fargo hadn’t impressed me with their keen eye for detail or thoroughness.
• Despite providing all of the info above, they weren’t allowed to give me my “account” number over the phone.
• I’m to be inconvenienced for a third time, to drive to a physical bank branch.

I can’t express my frustration, disappointment, mistrust, feelings of disabuse emphatically enough.  The irony of Wells Faro placing me at financial risk, then again inconveniencing me as they purportedly protect my financial security is baffling.  There was no customer service escalation. There was no customer training that kicked in upon hearing my startling story.  And while $25 isn’t a large sum of money, I resent the presumption that Wells Fargo felt it within their rights to charge it.

For an account dormant three years with zero balance, no less.

Gak, are there no IT or Quality assurance processes in place there?  What assurances do I have that this will get resolved properly this time? Another smiling suit across a desk showing me the computer screen and shaking my hand while offering melodious platitudes is inadequate, really.  Heard that before.

So consider this, businesses big and small:

• Consumers have big voices, and they’re using them
• Consumers trust peers and referrals far more than they trust institutions
• Consumers are doing research for considered purchase products and services before deciding to buy
• You, Mr. Company, have a lot to learn. Fortunately, you have resources to tap
• The competitive environment mandates a genuine, demonstrable interest in customer service as a cost of doing business. Not interested? Fine, we’re moving on.

Wells Fargo:  if you were listening, you would have known yesterday that I’d Twittered 140 char of customer relationship angst about this. And you’d know I shared my views on this blog because your analytics would show the inbound link. You’d know how to reach me to discuss because of the buttons on my blog. If you were listening (and were concerned).

2/3/09 Update:

After sharing this post with a friend on Twitter, I learned she had a connection within Wells Fargo’s social media team and chose to share a link to my post with them. The next day I received the post comment from Joel shown below, and a phone call from someone within their “Online Executive Office.”  The gentleman at the OEO verfied one piece of identity and said he “would check with his colleagues and see if they could resolve my issue.” It’s been 24 hours; no confirmation call about my account cancellation. I’m not sure what to do now; call him back? Wait? Will I get a letter? Another post comment? Meanwhile, I received a $25 check today, presumably remuneration from the wrongly assessed annual fee. This is my assumption, but as there was no accompanying letter of explanation (nor apology), only the check, I can’t be for certain.

The repayment gives me transactional closure, yes. But it doesn’t resolve my pervasive issue, nor does it suitably address my value as a (potential) customer. It further cements the Wells Fargo view that I really don’t matter to them.

Feeling like Wells Fargo still isn’t getting it.

2/5/09 Update:

Received voice mail from same gentleman in the Online Executive Office, wanted to determine if I’d received the $25 refund and instructions on how to close the account. If I still need help, I can call him….

Which, of course, I did.  Left a message. This situation is still a trainwreck; what benefit did I receive from having the OEO involved in things? I’d already had the refund part of the issue resolved with the regular phone bank person days before, and had received the refund check already (remember–the check came without a single piece of correspondance). One would assume that escalation policy (presumably, the OEO, right?) would offer a consumer added value–say, like, actually closing my account? As swiftly as possible? Right now, they’re just another cook in the kitchen, but not yet producing anything.

Why is Wells Fargo ostensibly “listening” and dedicating staff, but doing nothing to resolve the core issue, authentically address customer concerns, and bring closure to a very aggrevating situation?

For instance, let’s say one of your goals, as marketing manager, is to identify short and long term strategies for developing consumer affinity and ultimately loyalty.  Now that is a one-sentence goal, but it sure does have heavy implications.  Consumers are inhereintly fickle and the economic and political climate is so unstable that to say there are few variables you can identify (much less effect) is an understatement.  But you are goal-oriented and have the resources to craft a well-considered plan steeped in empirical evidence that’s also sprinkled with some progressive tactics and measures. 

Now what?

Re-read my last paragraph.  While it may seem straightforward and reasonable, there are a few key elements missing.  Perhaps you, the reader, were just buying in to the general story flow and overlooking a few chinks that may have been niggling at the back of your mind.  Or maybe you didn’t even see the pink elephant in the room at all.  But it’s there.

What do you do when you’ve done the research, crafted a plan, vetted it, revised it, and put the glossy quality-assurance bow on top?

You might just find yourself holding a great work product that’s, well, academic.

Blasphemy! you cry.  Not so much, says I.  Answer a few key questions and see if you don’t start to wonder.  How was your charge/responsibility/deliverable determined and/or unearthed?  Who specifically gave you the orders?  Are your peers aware of the initiative?  Has it been communicated externally?  What other key/important events are on the horizon at your organization?  How much “face time” did you have with executive-level staff during your development process?  Have public commitments been communicated, and made?  What level of involvement and/or support would you say that you have from team mates or cross-functional influencers/contributors?

As marketers, we know how crucial stewardship is for a client brand.  There’s cheeky jokes about the “brand police.”  But the reality is, a brand is an organic ideal that has to be nurtured, maintained, and protected almost as a child would.  The child could likely fend for itself for a little while (depending on its age – another irony at play here), but it wouldn’t thrive, it could be endangered, and well, it just isn’t smart to do it.  Same principles apply with a brand. 

A brand has developmental stages.  A brand hits growing pains and suffers at the mercy of its peers occasionally.  If raised right, a brand has strength and character and moral fiber that will be woven into every touchpoint.  A brand strikes an emotive chord with its “family” (consumers) because of its association at events, situations, and memories.

Long way around, but what I’ve discovered in one lightening-bolt moment is that in order to have an honest chance at success, a brand has to have a champion.  It has to have an internal party who will articulate its purpose, its place, its strength, its reason to be.  That champion has to doggedly weave the brand into the fabric of the organization, preach its gospel, and encourage others to open up their line of thinking.  A brand has to be given a fighting chance, and the best fight is won through internal transparency, proud ownership, and external commitment.

Stewardship will create an environment for success that will resonate with your stakeholders and your consumers with authenticity.

• Unify the vendors, ride operators, and other staff through team shirts styled in yesteryear fashion.  Nothing fancy, but a solid color button-front shirt with some embroidery and traditional styling would just “feel” right.
• Bring a sense of “event” by exacting simple hygiene and dress code standards.  There’s a saying about feeling the way you dress; if operators and vendors appear seedy, then they aren’t empowered to be confident, nor are they encouraged to interact with ride-goers in a positive way.
• If operators and vendors aren’t interacting with the crowed, then some of the authentic atmosphere is lost.  There should be a convivial feel to the experience, a sense of magic and awe.  That can be improved by the energy and vibe projected by the operators.
• Bring in the fair master, the charming, persistent, cajoling buy with the straw hat and cane who says things like “Step right up!” and “Win the little lady. . .”

I was disappointed at our fair to find the operators, well, dirty and inattentive, more focused on their text messages and their cigarettes than on delivering joy to fairgoers.  Surely my $100 should have bought me a little charm, a little authenticity.