Office Nesting

Check out the Birdman. He takes urban living and office dwelling to a whole new realm.

 

Going There is not Being There

Here’s a wonderful little primer from students at ITT Institute of Design on how to do consumer ethnographic interviews, from on-the-street stops to on-site visits. Among a few other “pro” speakers, it features Dori Tunstall, an associate prof of Design Anthro at U of Chicago-Illinois. I’ve never met Dori, but am somewhat familiar with her from postings on the Anthro Design list. (As a side note, I’m still pissed at the list’s moderator for incorrectly suggesting that recruiting ethnographic subjects doesn’t validly fall into the domain of designing anthropology). It’s a pleasure to see Dori speak about ethnographic interviews with the ease of those profs I remember from my university days (David Turner, Ivan Kalmar, Richard Lee and a few others) whose knowledge of and empathy for their subject matter just rolls off the tongue. Too many university professors just straight up suck as teachers and, instead, collect their cheques on the merit of research and publishing. Dori sounds like the kind of prof that’s a pleasure to sit in on week after week. Anyway, enough about her. I was interested in the video, which is 30+ minutes long (yes, ethno takes time YouTube gen), for a number of reasons, some of which I can’t remember because the page of notes I took this week are sitting on my desk at work with other ethnographic ramblings I’m working through right now on kitchens, storytelling, life stages, wine and other client-centric musings. But what I can remember that I wanted to comment on was this:

1. Listening
It’s the most underrated skill there is in any kind of interview. Sure, you can go into the field with a list of questions in your head or on paper (my kitchen talk had over 33 themes to cover), but in the maelstrom of the process it all comes down to when they start talking you shut up and occasionally lead when there’s a noticeable pause. My dad was an award-winning journalist who interviewed Prime Ministers, Presidents, drug dealers, atheletes, priests, rich people, poor people and everyone in between because he knew how to write, how to ask and how to listen. From him I hope I’ve inherited the gift of limited gab.

2. The Philosophy
Near the front of the vid there’s mention of a philosophy behind ethnography. Unfortunately, the directors don’t really pursue this in any meaningful way, something I’m beginning to suspect many (if not most) of those in Design and Consumer Anthropology don’t have the time, leisure, inclination or, perhaps, moxy to address. Perhaps paying informants and having them sign a consent form is, in the minds of those pursuing design and consumption, all it takes to erase what academic anthropologists have been wringing their brains over since the post-colonial angst trend hit it big. (Then again, informants – and recruiting them – don’t seem to count for much in the way of designing anthropology for some, do they?) Anyway, I am worried about those practitioners who spend their time focusing so heavily on ethnography as a set of methods (good for adoption across disciplines, maybe bad for the subjects in question) at the expense of ethnography’s most philosophical intersections. It makes me wonder if Grant McCracken isn’t dead on when he promotes anthropology or bust. I mean, think about it. If I told Carl Craig that techno was 1. Detroit music 2. Inspired by mechanization and 3. Somewhere in the 125BPM range and higher, wouldn’t he just think I was a total knob. Techno, like ethnography, is the sum of its parts and so much more. Right Carl?

3. Being There vs. Going There
The field for cultivating consumer insights is littered with best practices, from focus groups to surveys to interviews to scanning brains. Everyone has to put on their best hustle to convince clients that what they do is the most nuanced, scientific, valuable, actionable and insightful. But let’s not fool ourselves. Dropping in to someone’s house for a few hours and interviewing them once or picking through their garbage to discover that they do indeed shop online (when they said they really didn’t) isn’t Being There. It’s Going There. For the life of me I couldn’t find the notes on my computer or a listing through Google or university library sites, but there’s an excellent ethnography of music by an anthropologist (whose name I can’t remember) who did his fieldwork on (I think) Ndembu drumming. If I remember correctly (and if you do, please remind me) it’s a very post-Victor Turner analysis that drives home the point that Being There (as Peter Sellers will tell you in the film) is not about physical space but psychological, social, personal self identification and immersion in process. In short, it’s about Becoming, Knowing, Feeling etc. I know it’s difficult with client budgets and multiple field sites on the go, but I’m not sure how many insights anyone is really providing clients on a project if everyone is convincing themselves that they somehow Become, Know or Feel their ethnographic subjects by sitting on their couch for an afternoon. That said, I’ve sat on a dozen or so couches this season trying to understand a single subject. The trick of cultivating real insights from such a series of experiences? I guess that’s a subject for another student video. This one, for all my bitching, is a great intro, well produced and, god forbid, will be ripe for the picking for all those focus group bitches trying to step up their game.

 

HR’s Food Fiasco in Joburg

Just when you thought you’d tried some out-there foods (I’ve had snake, dog and various cow organs in Indonesia), along comes Peace Magazine’s founder and publisher with the one-up: zebra, impala, ostrich and a whole host of South African game you’d rather watch on TV than see on your plate. Pics are not enough HR - where’s the video you’re holding out on!?!?!

 

Dear Coke, Goodbye Creative Directors

Dear Coke (or similarly monstrous multinational),

Looking for a new ad campaign? Something fresh, exciting, young, hot - you know, all those words you bandy around the boardroom as you look to pat each other on the back for an idea well done?

Or, looking to save a few bucks on all those Creative Directors that, well, might not be that creative? Why hire them at all when you’ve already got mountains of film that could be creatively re-purposed to launch an entirely new (and fresh, and exciting, and young, and hot) spin on the TV, Web or (please…no) pre-movie ad?

Here’s a hint. Consider it the tip of an iceberg - something to melt on while I’m sipping Pepsi.

 

Yo! LinkedIn just got linkedUP!

I’ve recently taken to Googling my way to certain URLs, a lazy or, perhaps, most time-efficient method of getting from one place to another that I picked up from my wife. In doing so, my less-frequent-than-before trips to LinkedIn revealed to me the presence of a certain media powerhouse who ranks #2 when you Google the pro networking site. Seeing his name, well, I couldn’t resist. Yeah, I know - it’s probably part of his whole grassrootsy social networking campaign vibe, and his little aides likely approve everybody. But who doesn’t want to be the first kid on their LinkedIn block who can claim that the man who could be the next President of the United States is his L.I. homes? Peep the Hasselhoff pic. Visit my profile.

 

P Pop

You know you’re working too much and behind the pop culture 8 ball when a little Philipina girl sneaks up behind you and drops a bomb that she’s quite possibly the next singing sensation that you had no clue about cause you’re 40 and not as desperate to be in the loop as you were twenty years ago. Oh well, that’s what I have Kengwei for. That, and the design genius. Thanks Kengwei - I’ve watched every vid that pop ups on You Tube for her, including the You Tube 1.0 mash-up with Beyonce, which is hot enough for B in that dress with those hips.

 

What about jocks & cheerleaders?

Anyone who appreciated the skills that the crew from Revenge of the Nerds had beyond the football and dating fields knows that geeks always had a cool quotient, albeit one that was very covert in the 1980s. That characters like Lamar have since gone on to play a huge role in defining our culture’s assumptions and aspirations regarding what is currently cool is something of a table-turning victory celebration: injecting archetypes into the realm of stereotypes, it’s now common practice to credit nerds with everything that’s evolved in the hip intersections between society and technology since their boners first saluted the Commodore 64. (See: Bill Gates).

Today’s matrix of technology, interactive, design, strategy, research, interactive, innovation etc. is brimming with folks who probably didn’t score touchdowns and date cheerleaders in high school. Many of them – like the former and/or practicing DJs, rave promoters, comic artists, font freaks, and connoisseurs of tea, wine and chocolate who populate this realm and generally stand united against the alpha-male jock villains of 80’s cinema – have some degree of coolness under their belt. Some of them are even designing the next application, device, site or campaign you will think is cool.

As an anthropologist, that interests me. My apologies in advance for raising the specter of such an over-haunted theme, but I have to wonder if this professional matrix has become so enraptured by its own culture of cool that it has spawned an ethnocentricity that’s now reaching full maturity.

Case in point #1: I’ve recently been involved with an industrial designer in a single volley debate over the value (or meaning?) or ‘ordinariness’ on Idris’ blog. I understand that few, if any, designers strive for the ordinary; however, having done the ethnography, I am very familiar with those ‘consumers’ who prefer, if not thrive on, the ordinary.

Case in point #2: a recent posting on Dino’s blog led me to a Slide Share by Paul Isakson. Two of the slides read: “Great. But my product isn’t cool. What can I do?” The answer – and its simplicity isn’t that surprising considering Paul is one of those hailing the impending (if not accompli) ‘death of advertising’ - is “Well, frankly you’re screwed.”

I’m not so sure – about being screwed or about what ordinary is. Designers chasing the next iWhatever can’t be faulted for wanting to create the next cool thing. But who decides what cool is? And when did ordinary get set in stone?

The many on-screen humiliations suffered by the Lamars of pop culture served to dramatize our rooting for the underdog and the stark demographic reality that most of those watching are more like the pocket protector crew than the alpha-male jock villains of 80’s cinema. And while it’s far sexier to conduct ethnographies on the cool, I’d just like to stick up for the voice of those poor jocks and cheerleaders who might be forgotten as they shop for tube socks, bath mats, paper towel and all those other products that have slipped through the cracks of cool. Roland Barthes would not be pleased with this exnomination of the nerds.

 

Neuromarketing + ads = duh, again

Jennifer Wells’ article in The Globe & Mail’s Report on Business section (“Advertising’s Holy Grail,” Saturday March 15) illustrates how truly little of a shit some marketers and advertisers give about consumers as human beings – especially those companies who think they’ve taken a major leap into new strategic space by replacing focus groups for neuromarketing. As Wells points out, measuring brain waves or blood flows to determine responses to an ad’s music, imagery, brand messaging etc. isn’t exactly a spring chicken methodology. But, as the thrust of her article, the announcement 4 weeks ago that Nielsen Co. “had made what it called a ‘strategic investment’ in a theretofore unheard of California company called NeuroFocus’,” it looks like the chicken’s got new gravy.

Other firms are similarly working this new gravy, er, methodology. Along with Neilsen, Wells points out that ESPN, Virgin Mobile USA and Starcom MediaVest (and there’s far more to boot) have all recently cut cheques to them to mine the deepest recesses of the consumer mind. But are they? Really?

Positioning your services as an alternative to focus groups? Isn’t that like cancer calling the plague black? I’m all for kids getting $20 to taste a chocolate bar or two and tell Cadbury’s it’s shit, but focus groups haven’t been a ‘best practice’ for any firm with a brain worth scanning since Puma-wearing 20-somethings early-adopted that phrase, like, whenever. Tsk tsk to Jennifer Wells (if she did) or NeuroFocus (if they did) for setting the best practice bar so low at focus groups. Like, who can’t jump that high?

This approach to probing the ‘consumer mind’ (literally) for deep insights will fly, for a time, because most of the 1.0 marketing and advertising crowd are quantitative junkies so unsure of their product and promotion (and, I guess, their people) that they’ll only place their bets once the Vegas odds are sold to them in their favour. They’ll pay for the service because the companies that offer it boast a more accurate or detailed or nuanced read with – get this – fewer test subjects. Yes, it saves money and it’s quicker than focus groups! But it still seems focus groupy, just with a big discount coupon, wires on heads and cool EEG readouts to throw into a Power Point deck.

Remember brain wavers that claimed they could crack the emotion & meaning of music or peer into the predator’s mind as he watched porno in jail?

How many times a man farts after eating chicken tikka doesn’t tell you anything about how much or where, why, when and with whom – never mind the stories he might regale you with from his restaurant experiences or childhood memories of the family tandoor as young boy in the Punjab – he is socially, culturally, personally, emotionally or gastronomically engaged with and by chicken tikka.

I guess what really irks me is that some companies or brands and their research lackies would even think of hooking lab consumers up to wires. What’s next? Rubbing shampoo into kids’ eyes to see how much they cry?

Or maybe it’s the title of Wells’ article. I guess she’s a fan of the Dan Brown/Tom Hanks version. Sorry, though, I’m still not convinced the secrets can be read through wires. You won’t find them in the blood or, for that matter, the brain as mechanism. And even if you could, one brain does not make a market, a community or a culture.

 

The smart

I like smart people, especially people who are smarter than me. Not smarter than me in terms of ties and slacks, but smarter (not that I’ve got some quantitative stick in my pocket) than me in that sense of, when you read their writing or hear them speaking, you feel like drowning your PhD in a case of Beck’s. Sometimes it happens when I watch a great TV show (The Wire, Kalifornication, that hidden motel room show) or read a great book (Lawrence Hill’s The Book of Negroes, Norman Stolzoff’s Wake The Town, anything by Victor Turner). I’m writing this ode to the wise because, recently (and since being hired on by two dudes who have me deep in Bremen’s finest), I signed up for Twitter. Put my non-early adopter status down to a flair for the social reluctance of many anthropologists (sometimes we get so hooked on other’s sociality that we ignore our own. Don’t expect the regular updates on What I’m Doing). In doing so (thanks, again, to a brother) I came across the new fact that Mark Ury has a blog. Check it here. Mark works as an Experience Architect at Blast Radius in Toronto. I had the pleasure to work in a room with him last year for two days. I hope some of his mojo rubbed off on me, because he is, for lack of accoladed wording, smart. (He can probably do Ikea furniture with his eyes closed). Just read his posting on why Apple is successful. And no, it’s not design. In scrolling through Mark’s blogroll I was reminded to catch up on postings by Grant McCracken. I hope his middle-ageness doesn’t flinch in referring to him as one of the granddaddies of anthropology for business (?, I flinch at ‘consumer anthropology’), but there’s rarely a post that goes by in his musings on work, ethnography etc. that doesn’t have those of us less jet-setting-than-he looking to get some game. Needless to say, he’s smart - and his recent post aimed at ethnographic pretenders must have stung many.

That’s all, that’s it. Just looking to big up the smart.

 

Love to LinkedIn

It has been three weeks since I started at Idea Couture and, not surprisingly three weeks since LinkedIn and I started arguing about whether or not we need counseling. She says we do, complaining that I don’t pay enough attention to her anymore. That’s not entirely true. I do spend some quality time with her once a day, at least on weekdays.

But she’s changed. Week after week it seems as if she’s showing a new side, one that surprises me (and not in a unanimously great way). Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I can see it on her face: one day it’s ‘who checked your profile’ and ‘your name came up on x-amount of searches’ on the left, a couple of days later it’s on the right; one day a pop-up mysteriously appears (and stays, thus far) asking me what I’m up to right now (like I can break my NDA pre-nup, right?); then, all of a sudden, I don’t have to peek into her contacts to find out who has just linked up because it’s right there, in my face; and don’t even talk to me about the new man in her life last week, boldly asking me from a questioning face that’s never been present in our personal space about how we can encourage more students to enrol in science and technology courses. Like that’s what he’s really interested in!

I have to admit, though, that I, too, have changed. Or maybe it’s that the relationship has changed. It’s not that I don’t need her any more. I love LinkedIn. I can’t quite keep up with how she keeps changing her looks week after week, but it’s what’s inside that counts, right? I fell in love with that the very day that my brother introduced me to her in the spring. Yeah, I knew she’d been around the block for a few years before our first days together but, after refusing so many introductions to MySpace and realizing that I just didn’t have the kind of commitment (and interest) it would take to make it work with Facebook, that didn’t matter. Because at that moment in my life I knew LinkedIn was the one for me. And so I spent hours with her that first week, courting her with carefully crafted words that, I hoped, would forever enamour her to me. But sometimes forever isn’t, well, forever.

I do have to thank her for getting me in the door at a number of places where I met some interesting people (and some people who wore slacks, worked in cubicles and got there via HR) who talked about what we could do together. In the end, however, it was a life pre-her that came knocking, talked to me about my passions, skills and insights fitting into a new business model, gave me a desk (and a phone, and a light, and a filing cabinet, and more!) and set me off on a cross-Canada road trip to learn about something that my pre-nup demands I keep quiet. In part, I credit the energy I put into my relationship with her for creating the karmic powers that led me to where I am now.

Looking back I realize that, yes, I used her. But hasn’t everybody? It’s not like it’s over, though. People change. Jobs change. I wouldn’t be surprised if, one day, we rediscover that first spark that set us (okay, me) on fire. If we do, I hope it leads to something that’s as exciting as the one I’m in now, a place in my life that conjures the passion of those first few days in the warm embrace of LinkedIn.

Until then, I am introducing a close girlfriend to her in hopes that, together, they can make the magic happen. And another girlfriend will soon be revisiting her to, hopefully, make up in ways that will similarly transform a professional situation. Best of luck to all three.