Advertising confuses itself with showbiz.

Some people in advertising honestly think of themselves as celebrities,

They believe that what they do is so important they lead the public rather than follow.

In short, some of us believe our own hype.

We believe the world revolves around advertising, rather than that advertising revolves around the world.

We think of everyone and everything only in terms of what we do.

The correct term for this is hubris.

Marion Harper was was the founder of Needham Harper and Steers, a massive Madison Avenue advertising giant in the fifties.

He came into the studio of his agency one day.

It was lunchtime and it was empty, except for one scruffy teenager listening to a transistor radio.

Harper was furious at such behaviour.

He said, “Son, how much do you earn?”

The kid said, “$100 a week.”

Harper pulled out a wad of cash and peeled off $200.

He said, “We don’t allow people to listen to the radio while they’re working. Here’s two weeks money. I want you to leave the agency this minute.”

The kid said, “Okay, sure.”

Then he took his radio and left.

As soon as he’d gone the studio manager appeared.

He said, “Hi Mr. Harper. You didn’t see the Pizza delivery guy around here, did you?”

You might have thought that would be enough to make Marion Harper realise where advertising fits in the real world.

But it seems not.

One morning at about 7.45, he phoned the office to check what time the staff were arriving.  

The phone rang several times before a someone eventually picked it up.

A young man said, “Yeah?”

Marion Harper shouted, “That’s no way to answer the phone you moron.”

The young man said, “Fuck you.”

Marion Harper , “Do you know who this is?”

The young man said, “No”

He said, “This is Marion Harper, Chairman of the agency.”

The young man said, “Okay, do you know who this is?”

Marion Harper said, “No”

The young man said, “Well then, fuck you” and hung up.

When Mohammed Ali was young he was known as Cassius Clay.

He was also known as “The Louisville Lip” because of his arrogance.

He would predict, in rhyme, the round he’d knock his opponents out.

“I’m wise to his tricks,

so he must fall in round six.

But if he talks in jive,

I’ll put him down in five.”

At first everyone laughed at the arrogance of such a loud mouth.

But boxers started to fall in the rounds he predicted.

And pretty soon everyone stopped laughing.

This was something no one had seen before.

A man who was so supremely self-confident it wasn’t even a question of whether he’d win, just what round.

Other boxers were terrified.

The question came to be not, would they lose, but could they survive the round Clay had predicted.

They became so terrified of the accuracy of his predictions, defeat seemed almost inevitable.

His opponents’ confidence evaporated.

They were beaten and demoralised before they started.

Years later he admitted that his early opponents weren’t that impressive.

So, to make himself stand out, he would predict a round to win.

Often he could have knocked them out in the first round.

But he waited, and kept the fight going, until the round he predicted.

Because he knew it would have a greater effect on the better fighters who were watching.

The ones he’d have to fight next.

So he changed the rules of the game.

Frank Lowe did something similar.

As CEO of Collett Dickenson Pearce, he asked Mike Yershon, the head of media, to buy every 48 sheet poster within a mile radius of the agency.

Then he made sure that all CDP’s client’s posters ran on them.

So that any new business client coming in to see CDP would have seen all their advertising before they even got to the agency.

And when Frank Lowe showed them the agency’s work, they were impressed that everything seemed like famous campaigns.

Because, without realising it, they’d just seen everything on posters, on the way there.

Like Cassius Clay, Frank had won the game before it even started.

There used to be a brand of beer called Courage Tavern.

It had some great advertising, done mainly by John Webster.

“Courage Tavern. It’s what your right arm’s for.”

It won lots of awards.

But the brand died because there was no way drinkers could shorten the name.

Research showed that it’s subliminally very important for a drinker to be able to show familiarity with his beer at the bar.

For instance, no one would ask for, “A pint of Double Diamond”.

That would be way too formal.

They’d asked for, “A pint of Diamond.”

Or, “A pint of DD.”

This flags that they’re a regular drinker, and a normal bloke.

But you couldn’t do that with Courage Tavern.

To walk up to the bar and say, “A pint of Courage Tavern” sounded way too middle class.

As if you should add, “My good man” or “Innkeeper” at the end.

No one was going to walk up to the bar and say that.

And you couldn’t shorten it to, “A pint of Tav.”

So the brand died because no one could show familiarity with the name.

So Courage changed the name, from Tavern, to John Courage.

People began asking for, “A pint of JC.”

And sales took off really well.

Even though the brown fizzy liquid was identical.

This shows the power of a mnemonic.

In the mass market, especially amongst men, nicknames are really important.

They show a lack of formality and a willingness to have fun.

In sport, it’s a cliché that you’re not really accepted as one of the lads  until you’ve got a nickname.

Fergy, Keano, Becks, Giggsy, Big Phil, Rafa the Gaffer, Drogs, Lamps.

It’s a way of saying we like you, you’re one of us.

Just look at the Sun.

Nearly 4 million copies sold a day.

Read by 10 to 12 million people.

If they can play with your name, for better or worse, you get much more coverage.

It’s the same in advertising.

If we can find a way to mobilise that natural instinct amongst millions of men, we can use it as free media.

That’s what a mnemonic is.

A way to play with the name in order to get it remembered.

Those that insist on being addressed formally go the way of Courage Tavern.