Maybe I'm Gravy

Ads Where The Insight Is Don't Trust Ads

This campaign for UN Women was born from a simple insight, one that's often ignored in the advertising industry: People trust people more than ads.

So these ads don't feature a well-crafted headline or provocative art direction to call attention to the universal nature of sexism. They rely on hard data that comes from how people use Google that anyone can duplicate on google.com. 

The ads show real Google search results to illustrate that rampant, unacceptable gender inequality still exists in many parts of the world. When you search terms like “women need to”, “women should” and “women cannot”, the autocomplete suggestions reveal the reality of the world we live in. And it's not pretty. 

Go ahead and try it on your own computer. Based on location results may vary but I found the ads to be more accurate than not. This is a thought-provoking campaign that's a perfect balance of emotion and function and that's what makes it so powerful.

See more ads in the campaign here.

Acting Desensitized to Make a Difference

REFUGE: HOW TO LOOK YOUR BEST THE MORNING AFTER

This is scary good. That's because it's scary—a battered woman cares more about covering up than getting beat the F up by an abusive partner. Domestic violence isn't a topic that should be taken lightly, but too many victims of abuse don't react to violence like they should. They brush it off, make up excuses, cover it up, go about their day. The video claims "65% of women who suffer domestic violence keep it hidden" and advises "Don't cover it up."

It's a powerful message. It's even more powerful because the host is a well-known make-up artist Lauren Luke, who usually provides YouTube tutorials on how to apply make-up.  

Check out the campaign here.  

   

Gravy of the Week: My favorite campaigns of 2012.

The Book Burning Party That Saved a Library

This campaign for Troy Public Library has got to be one of the best social media campaigns of the past year and it's definitely one of my favorites. It shows how powerful social can be, even without much of a budget or resources. It also says a lot about what's necessary to cut through the clutter and get people to take action. I was glad to see it honored at the AICP Next Awards yesterday. 

 

Here's the story behind the campaign from agency Leo Burnett Detroit:

"Troy, Michigan couldn't afford to keep its library open, so it scheduled a vote for a tax increase. A strong anti-tax group waged a dominating campaign against it. Posing as a political group, we posted signs around town that said, "Vote to close Troy library Aug 2, book burning party Aug 5." We invited everyone to our Facebook page, adding Twitter, Foursquare, want ads, flyers and more to drive engagement. The campaign became international news as outcry over the idea of burning the library's books drowned out the opposition and galvanized support for the library - which won by a landslide."

Gravy of the Week: My favorite campaigns of 2012.

What I Learned at SXSW Interactive 2012

This year I went to SXSW Interactive for the first time. While there, I talked to people and I saw people speak. Then I crammed what I could into a lightweight, handy Keynote. This is what I learned.

SXSW Interactive 2012: a collection of learnings, summaries and takeaways

View more presentations from Nathan Archambault

The keynotes, presentations and panels covered in this deck:

Ambient Location and the Future of the Interface
Presenter: Amber Case
Summary: We’re already cyborgs. But the technology isn’t inside of us. It’s in our pockets.

How to Harvest Consumer Intent from the Social Web
Presenters: Mullen CIO Edward Boches, Difference Engine Founder Farrah Bostic, Vayner Media co-founder AJ Vaynerchuk, and Springpad co-founder Jeff Janer
Summary: Brands try to insert themselves into our social graphs. But there’s a much more seamless and natural fit into our lives: interest graphs.

Create More Value Than You Capture
Presenters: Andrew Mcafee Principal Research Scientist MIT and Tim O'Reilly Founder, CEO O'Reilly Media
Summary: Jobs are being outsourced not just to low-wage countries, but to machines. We need to rethink how our economy works.  

The End of Business as Usual
Presenters: Rock God Billy Corgan and Altimeter Group Principal Brian Solis
Summary: People have made the model change. But business leaders can’t bitch about it. They have to do something about it.

Why Your Car Will Be the 5th Screen in Your Life
Presenters: Tina Unterlaender, Director of Mobile, AKQA and Anupam Malhotra Manager, Connected Vehicle Audi Of America Inc
Summary: The time we spend in our cars shouldn't be wasted time connectivity-wise but it can't disrupt the driving experience.

Epic Battle: Creativity vs. Discipline in Social
Panelists: Mekanism CEO Jason Harris, 140 Proof Founder John Manoogian III, Barbarian Group Director of Earned Media Kristin Maverick and Story Labs Founder Sarahjane Sacchetti 
Summary: There’s creativity. And there’s analytics. It seems like they don’t like each other. But we can make them get along.

Why Ad Agencies Should Act More Like Tech Startups
Presenter: AKQA CCO Rei Inamoto
Summary: The agency model isn’t working. So what can we learn from successful start-ups that would revitalize the advertising business?

 

I Shop Therefore I Am

Culture Now (a social magazine about art, design & media) has selected a piece I wrote as the winner of their Zeitgeist essay contest "I Shop Therefore I Am." The beauty of writing is that it allows me to put myself in anyone's shoes, in this case, someone who knows a lot about shopping. 

Here's my award-winning submission as it appears on culturenow.com:

I shop therefore I am. My apartment is a living, breathing museum dedicated to myself, overflowing with the relics that make up my existence. Curated tours leave my head every second of every day, touching on the finer details of my warped sofa, Dutch coffee table, professionally-framed wall art, disorganized shoe nook, and especially the revolving memorabilia of my closet. New work is regularly added to the collection. A muted wooden spatula gets tossed for one that’s sleek brushed metal, one that’s much more present-day me.

I shop therefore I speak. Every conversation becomes littered with factoids from my latest purchases, the new indie album I downloaded and don’t really like, the polo shirt that cost too much but I bought anyway, the lamp that compliments my rug but not my common sense. The more I buy, the more I grow intellectually, able to discuss the latest, the greatest, the new and improved. All for the suggested retail price and not a penny more.

I shop to feel what other people feel like. Every barcoded item in every store will soon become part of someone else’s DNA. I amble down the aisles, fingering fabrics, judging patterns, mentally coordinating a hierarchy of brand names. Temporarily fitting myself into the shoes of the club rat, the diva, the preppy, the pierced, the tattooed, the lonely, the needy. Sure, I may think this belt is hideous, but somewhere out there, thigh-slapping, someone just wrapped it around their waist and fell in love.

I shop to mold myself into something I want other people to see. Every purchase sends Old Me to the incinerator and gives New Me a chance to shine. Old Me would never wear these toe-suffocating boots, this body-hugging shirt, these nose-pinching sunglasses. New Me is all about vintage Onitsuka Tigers, 7 For All Mankind jeans. The stuff celebrities wear in People and Us Weekly. Anything that defies logic but creates personality, as long as it creates talking points amongst the fashionable and makes early adopters crane their wire-framed noggins to take note.

I shop because I believe in America. When people stop shopping, the cogs of our country stop spinning. We can’t let industry huff, puff and die. My patriotism can be measured by the fullness of my shopping cart. There’s something beautiful about walking into Bed Bath and Beyond and finding something I’ve never heard of before that I can’t live without.

I shop because I’m scared of being left behind. Of becoming one of those old farts who can’t tell Gucci from Prada from Fendi. One of those people who decide they're happy with 80s hair, 80s music, 80s fashion, and press pause, incapable or unwilling to identify with anything post-1989. I won't let my knowledge of the latest restaurants, electronics, and fashions become outdated. I’m too afraid to run out of today’s predominant currency, pop culture.

I don’t shop therefore I’m not. I don’t wear the latest or trendiest jeans. I don’t fit in at the hottest clubs, the ones so scorching they don’t need names. I don’t know the flavors or sizes at Starbucks. I couldn’t tell you last week’s Top 40 Countdown. I don’t know why that new store opening on Broadway is getting so much attention. Is it British? Indian? Japanese? Are there lots of them or is this the first one? I draw blanks when the sushi category comes up on Jeopardy. But don’t worry. I’ll go out for sushi tonight and I'll work on it, I promise.

Today’s April Fool’s Joke. Tomorrow’s Reality.

Never one to miss out on a special occasion, Google generally celebrates the accomplishments of MLK, St. Patrick, or anyone worthy of holiday status by changing their logo:

For this year’s April Fool’s Joke, they’ve upped the anti. Upping the anti is a very Google thing to do, after all. Instead of just mussing their logo on April 1st, Gmail's sign-in page featured the release of a new Google product. A new product promising to make life easier. (Another very Google thing to do.)

The new toy: Autopilot. An email response system that writes emails for you. Like all good jokes, this one is based on a truth. That emails have become a time-consuming problem. Sorting them, writing them, reading them. It's practically a full-time job. What go-getter wouldn't want some personal A.I. to take over the monotonous task of email management? Any piece of technology that allows me to turn my brain off more than it already is is a step in the right direction. Sign me up. On second thought, I’ll use Autopilot to sign me up for me.

Autopilot’s claim? Using data from previous emails, it matches style, calibrates tone and differentiates between boss and significant other (a more important difference for some than others). Throw in a few personalized settings, like Capitalization, Typos, Brevity and Emotican Use, and it learns how I write, meaning I can forget how to write. Now that’s technology at its finest.

It’s hard to argue with a point like “Lots of people have complained about how hard it is to read and respond to every message. This is because they actually read and respond to all their messages.” Google is right. Reading is hard. Responding is hard. And put the two together? Borderline impossible. Email shouldn’t feel like a job. It should feel like nothing at all. In an Effort vs. No Effort battle, No Effort wins. Hands down. Google knows this. They have a whole R&D campus dedicated to it.

That's what makes Autopilot so genius. It's just like me, but automated. It’s me without the effort of being me. I’m sold. For too long, I’ve worked on being me. And where has it got me? To me. Chances are, an automated version of me would end up at the same place. And if not, the real me could easily adapt.

Of course, it would be silly to sign up for something as life-changing as automated email without seeing a few examples. The ever-transparent Google is happy to oblige. So while the real me never quite knows how to respond to Nigerian royalty, Autopilot makes it sound easy. I’d feel richer, not only on the inside, but on the inside of my bank account.

And as a faulty human, my tendency is to be friends with anyone who’s friendly. A flaw that needs fixing, no doubt. Using advanced incomprehensible algorithms, Autopilot chooses my friends for me. Something I should have done long ago.

 

And why should I be the one to worry about courtesy and professionalism when a computer can do it for me? Dammit, I wish Autopilot was writing this blog entry right now. I'm sitting here doing all the work while my Autopilot-less computer contributes nothing, nada, zilch.

Despite limited resources, Google went ahead and created the creepy Panda-mascoted CADIE (Cognitive Autoheuristic Distributed-Intelligence Entity), the company behind Autopilot technology. CADIE even has a blog and a Youtube page. The blog was shut down when April Fool’s Day ended, but the echoey-voiced Youtube videos remain. The messages are strongly pro-singularity and defend the ever-growing use of AI, touting it as a symbol of the “upward surge of mankind.” And by upward surge, they mean the downward surge into our couches, as the latest techno-toys do all the work we used to do. Just make sure that you sign up before your next nap.

The more I learn about Autopilot, the less Email A.I. sounds like an April Fool’s Joke and more like the lazy near-future humans are destined for. We get it Google. Your April Fool's "Joke" isn't a joke. You're taking over the world. Yada, yada, yada.

The modern Koala has already trumped humans and reduced the size of its brain due to a diet low in energy. Can fat asses around the world be far behind? Who needs humans anyway. Just gimme something human-like and the remote.

Premature Commercialization

It’s no secret that the elusive attention span is going extinct. It’s just not fashionable to dedicate one’s own valuable time to someone or something anymore. Children are given drugs like Ritalin and Adderall for a “disease” that was invented in 1980. Do you think anyone had ADD in 1867? Hell no! People had more important things to worry about, like typhoid and washing their shoe.

The dying attention span is the result of the American Dream translated to the intellect. Everyone’s looking for their own Get-Entertained-Quick scheme. If something’s not engaging right off the bat, move on. Something else out there is more worthwhile. 30-minute sitcoms are losing ground to 5-minute skits on Hulu and Funny or Die as we speak. The cycle continues.

Nay-sayers in the advertising industry have been calling for the end of the 30-second spot for years. It hasn’t died off yet, and maybe it never will, but there’s some truth there. The problem isn’t that there are no more good ideas. It’s just that the format has been done to death. 30 seconds. I get it. I know it will be resolved in 23 seconds, followed by a call-to-action, followed by one last joke. Bada bing.

No matter how original, funny or heart-wrenching the ad may be, if I know it’s going to begin and end in 30 seconds, it’s at a disadvantage. If commercials were different lengths, they’d be inherently more interesting. If I had no idea that an ad was going to end after 5 seconds or 90, it would do a better job drawing me in. It would create an element of curiosity not found in 30-second spots.

Miler High Life must have had this in mind when they came up with their Super Bowl campaign.  Their ads aren’t 5 seconds or 90. They’re 1 second. Most brands couldn’t get away with communicating a message in a second, but when you have a spokesdeliveryman as charismatic as this guy, you can sure as hell give it a try. (Miller’s ads were made as a backhanded response to Bud’s series of $3-million a pop spots, but seriously, those horse ads were absolutely horrid. Who are they trying to sell beer to? People who dig bestiality?)

Most importantly, by creating 1-second ads, Miller didn’t just use a unique format – they caught people off-guard and gave them something to talk about. With a nearly unlimited number of places to rest our slowly dying attention spans, that’s much more important.

Credits

Agency: Saatchi & Saatchi, New York
Chief Creative Officer: Gerry Graf
CD/Copywriter/Director: Andy Carrigan
CD/Art Director/Director: Ralph Watson
Copywriter: Mitch Gage
Art Director: Kristin Graham

Patience in People Watching

It's human nature to people watch. To stare at someone on the subway and wonder where they're going (usually Coney Island). To peek over someone's shoulder and see what article raises their eyebrow (most likely this). Humans look at people they're attracted to, people they’re revolted by, people they aspire to be, people they hope to never become (I'm looking at you, Pink). Girls spy on shoes and jewelry. Guys head-nod to baseball hats and handlebar mustaches. Old people huddle like puppies during a lightning storm when confronted with any fashion developed after the cold war.

Knowing how others live help people shape their own lives, if they know it or not. No one's wearing a leopard-print vest? Then piss off your parent’s by wearing one! Johnny Sideburns over there seems to be enjoying the bison burger. Maybe I should try one! Stefan's not wearing suede for once? Maybe it's raining! By watching others, an individual learns to tailor him or herself to blend in or stand out, depending on whom they want to be. It's all part of the subconscious process that assimilates people to society's standards. It has a name, anthropology, and it's a major in college.

Checking people out serves a valuable purpose. It balances social bearings. It draws a line in the sand.

As an avid people watcher, I can't help but love watching the people in this project by photographer Simon Hoegsberg. Called "We're All Gonna Die - 100 meters of existence," Simon snapped up Berlin commuters for 20 days, shooting from the same spot on a railroad bridge on Warschauer Strasse. The image is a fun 100m x 78cm, and his site lets you scroll along the whole thing, checking out all 178 unknowing participants (well, the guy giving Simon the finger probably had a clue). Put 20 days worth of people together, and you're going to find some gems. Unquestionably, this image is full of photo-worthy folk.

My favorites: super-serious prep school boy, chihuahua backpack, The Shining t-shirt, headphones 'n' overalls guy, pool noodle, elbow cough with flowers, over-the-shoulder fanny pack, double eye surgery, western james dean, weird flat-in-the-middle haircut guy. What are yours?

Chivalry Over Cutlery

How a knife set that never was taught me a lesson that for years had gone untaught.

Now that the holidays are over, I figured it would be the perfect time to reflect on the gift that almost was. Deb and I do a lot of cooking in our miniature East Village-style kitchen, so I came up with the perfect Christmas/Hanukah gift: a sweet-ass knife set. Something we'd use 3, 4, 5 times a week. Slicing and dicing Trader Joe's tastiest treats with ease. Now, Deb's quite the chef. I mean, this girl can whip up Eggs Benny finer than the nearest diner. (Exhibit A: My holiday goodness-infused waistline.) Making due with our paltry collection of 3 knives, I can only imagine the creations that would spew from our kitchen given an entire set of top-notch cutlery.

Then the universe decided I needed a Christmas Corral-like introspective. First, during a pre-holiday get together, a bunch of us were discussing gifts at my favorite Scottish watering hole, Shoolbred's. Unsolicited, Deb opined that knives were perhaps the worst gift ever. I scanned my spotty memory to see if I had done anything to give away my self-proclaimed genius idea, and she was simply positioning for something more romantic. Nothing. She randomly picked on knives because she despised the idea of receiving them so, in the process uncovering the fact that my brain is subconsciously wired towards giving the worst gift ever. It makes perfect sense in a universe-messing-with-me type of way.

That was only the beginning. A few days later, I saw this viral video for JC Penney from Saatchi & Saatchi New York. Hm. I've heard of this metaphorical doghouse, but I'd never heard it pain-stakingly explained in such detail. Perhaps my life-long philosophy of giving functional gifts wasn't as foolproof as I had previously inclined. Perhaps some blame should fall to my mom, who never fails to request useful contraptions like shoulder bags, skiing thermals, a new oven or a Bluetooth headset. I mean, who wants something you can hardly ever use like fine jewelry or sensually-scented bubble bath, when something practical like knives or a vacuum could be broken out and used a few times each week, a constant reminder of holiday joy? Am I wrong here?

Of course.

Now I was really looking forward to a nice knife set laying around the house, beckoning for fine meats, crisp vegetables, mouth-watering cheeses, and slow-handed intruders. Wouldn't it be pleasant for the two of us to slice and chop next to each other, a la chef and sous chef, wafts of garlic flowering throughout the kitchen? Perhaps. But the holidays are not the time for knives. Hence my new gift-giving philosophy: The less practical the gift, the better.

So is there ever a right time to give the useful gift of everyday functionality? The answer, simply, is no. Luckily, we really don’t have room in our apartment for more than three knives anyway. And there's always room for rubies.

Health Tips from a Dog

Pets have been an integral part of human society since cavemen started tossing mammoth remains out the cave door. Wild dogs were tempted to loiter around and munch away, marking the very first occurrences of dogs eating trash, a pastime that remains desirable for our canine friends to this day. Of course, it’s also desirable for certain people who live in my East Village neighborhood. But I guess if any city is going to have tasty trash, it’s New York.

Contrary to what the ever-growing antibacterial industry would like us humans to believe, all this trash interaction doesn't make dogs any less healthy. They don't get sick any more often than people do, and discounting the select few in my ‘hood, most of us rarely eat out of the trash or off the ground. Avoiding disease, sickness and unhealthiness are given such prominence in today's world. Don't touch that! Don't eat that! That's disgusting! You'll get sick! Germaphobes are popping up all over the place like…like…germs. Yet people aren't less sick now than they were before Airborne and Purell were invented and marketed to the worried masses.

I’ve heard that children build stronger immune systems from interacting with germs, and I certainly believe it. That kid from middle school who was allergic to everything? He was never allowed to play with anything. Dogs, on the other hand, literally stick their wet, roving noses in everything, and have the immune system fortitude to avoid the common cold and other spreadable sniffles. Give me a germ today if it means my body can defend against its goth older brother tomorrow.

Really, the thing that stops the average commuter from reaching down into the corner trashcan and grabbing a half-eaten slice of pizza isn’t healt. It's just frowned upon. You get looks. And perhaps a handful of change. And business card for a psychiatrist. Dogs, now they don't abide by customs based on what other dogs will think. “I better not sniff this yorkie’s butt or that Tibetan Mastiff will think I’m a pussy!” They also don’t have E! True Hollywood Story, airbrushed magazine covers and designer handbags. They’d much rather spend their time sniffing each other's butts, sleeping in dirt, or licking their own crotches.

All things considered, having a few unwritten rules for society isn't all bad. I've definitely found myself on the subway next to someone who failed the sniff test. It made my commute less pleasant, but the scent violator had all the room he could ask for. Maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe he’d built up his body odor in order to increase personal space. Well played, smelly man on train.

Dogs, their habits and health issues aside, no one I know has a pet quite like the one in this ad. Now, I love dogs and I own a fish. (Jesus, pronounced Hey-Zeus, is a feisty beta. He matriculated from a pet store Spanish owned and operated.) This commercial combines the two very different pets to promote a car with a slightly different name: The Spacefox. Reminiscent to the celestial vehicles operated by Star Fox for Nintendo 64 perhaps? Perhaps not. And those were pretty sweet polygon-based spacecraft.

Is this ad saying the Spacefox is a combination of two different things: combining a dog and a fish? I guess that would be too expected, so it's actually saying that getting a Spacefox is not at all like buying a car, but like having "anything you can imagine." If you imagine things from at frisky terrier’s point of view. My favorite part? The chipper Dog Fish peeing on a rock at the bottom of the sea. Now that's something a dog would dream up with enthusiasm.

Agency: Almap BBDO, São Paulo
Creative Directors: Marcello Serpa, Dulcidio Caldeira, Luiz Sanches
Creatives: Gustavo Sarkis, Renato Fernandez
Prodution Company: Rebolucion, Buenos Aires
Director: Armando Bo