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Rehabilitating Rosser Reeves
Rosser Reeves was the champion of the hard sell at the dawn of
television advertising in the early 1950s. His commercials, and
those produced by Ted Bates while he headed the agency, were all
based on a functional product benefit supported by a reason why:
"Wonder Bread builds strong bodies eight ways."
"M&Ms melt in
your mouth, not in your hand."
"Colgate
toothpaste cleans your breath while it cleans your teeth."
The commercials were about as subtle as a cinder block. Which was
exactly what Reeves had in mind. That hard-sell pounding was
extremely effective at the time. The U.S. economy
–
and society – had just left behind the shortages and rationing of
World War II and were still in a needs-driven era. Television was
such a fascinating new phenomenon that viewers watched avidly even
during hard-sell commercials.
As prosperity
inaugurated a wants-driven economy, the relationship between people
and brands changed. The transactional sale – Reeves' classic
definition of advertising as "...an extension, if you will, of
the merchant who cries aloud his wares," gave way to the
relational sell in which emotions and feelings about the product and
its place in the prospects' lives became paramount.
The creative
revolution of the 1960s reflected those changes in the economy and
society. Bill Bernbach charmed consumers, David Ogilvy flattered
them and Bill Backer touched their emotions. Once they'd been
artfully romanced, audiences found Reeves' brusque approach
unacceptable. The hard-sell fell out of fashion, and trendy
creatives reviled Rosser as a tasteless Philistine.
Although Reeves'
executional style is now the province of the cheesiest of used car
dealers and discount furniture stores, some of his underlying
concepts are still valid and valuable. To many ad folk they are
inextricably linked with Reeves's pounding hard sell. But they were
the precursors of stand-alone principles at the core of almost all
effective advertising today.
USP.
The Unique Selling
Proposition is disparaged as the functional benefit in
product-based commercials. And although that's how Reeves used it in
the early television era, the concept itself is applicable across a
wide range of possible "propositions." It can be an emotional reason
why, a subtle reason why or even an identification with a corporate
ethic. The key factors are that it is unique (or can pre-empt a
characteristic shared with competitors), that it offer a reason to
buy, and that it offer a benefit to the consumer. "Ben & Jerry's is
socially responsible so buying their ice cream makes me feel
socially responsible and therefore I feel good about myself when I
suck down a pint of Cherry Garcia," fits the formula every bit as
well as the Anacin spot.
Usage Pull. Reeves recommended
researching the effectiveness of commercials by comparing intent to
purchase among matched panels of people who had and who had not been
exposed to the advertising. The difference was the "usage pull,"
generated by the advertising. This was a pioneering attempt to track
the probable sales results (as opposed to recall) of media
advertising. One of the startling revelations was that usage pull
could be negative. A lot of advertising actually reduced sales. The
concept is the Genesis of all of today's marketing communications
ROI analyses.
Vampire Video.
Reeves was one of
the first to point out that distracting the audience with messages
or visual elements unrelated to a commercial's main point reduces
effectiveness dramatically. He called these (usually visual)
distractions vampire video because they can figuratively suck the
life from a commercial. Generations of copywriters and producers
since have had to re-learn the lesson over and over again. Even
worse, some never learn it, and win awards for advertising that
"skates on the slippery surface of irrelevant brilliance," to quote
Reeves' contemporary David Ogilvy. The danger of vampire video
transcends media, and web pages, newspaper ads, outdoor or direct
mail can be weakened by irrelevant elements just as easily as the TV
spots that were Reeves' métier.
Reeves' book,
Reality in Advertising, is now hard to find, even on auction
sites. And a great deal of what is says is self-serving. But amidst
the bombast and the none-too-subtle sales pitch there are some
nuggets on unchanging principles of the craft of persuasion.
There's still a
great deal to be learned from Rosser Reeves. Although no marketing
communication professional today would perpetrate a commercial like
that 1952 Anacin spot, we'd all like to triple our clients' sales.
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