The Final Advertising Frontier?
A very hypothetical, future-gazing blog this week, the inception of which came from a peruse of The Drum, and Amy Kean’s piece ‘Selling to the Subconscious’. So I doth my jaunty dream cap in her direction.
“A possible model could be payment in return for the entrance into people’s minds.” - Amy Kean
My own, most bizarre dream was when I was on the run with Robson & Jerome in a car made out of Lego, being pursued by Chief Wiggum from the Simpsons through the streets of Zurich. As to why Chief Wiggum was well out of his jurisdiction is but one of many questions this dream raises, but the vividness of the dream was such that I distinctly recall my conscious self saying mid-dream: remember this dream! Remember all these diverse Swiss shop fronts my imagination had created etc.
These kinds of dreams are, for me at least, sadly far too infrequent. But this is exactly where selling to the subconscious may find its niche.
If Lindt chocolate wanted to subtly invade my dream and put their branding on one of said shops, how can that work exactly? Forgetting the tech (it’s too far off), more the basic human need and intrusion.
Amy Kean suggests “a possible model could be payment in return for the entrance into people’s minds,” but I think this may miss a trick. It is the ultimate ad intrusion, so a form of monetary recompense may not be enough. For this to work you need demand, people wanting to participate, if it is to progress beyond the tech aficionado receiving a fee for mind access.
As you regale your friends with how you scored the winner against the Arsenal in the pub, you will be oblivious to the fact that the reason you just bought a Bud is because they were on the advertising hoardings in your own mind’s Wembley.
In dreams you actually believe in what is happening. Nothing in the waking world, be it cinema, video games or VR, truly creates that (although our Andrew does, I think, believe he is an actual Formula 1 driver whilst on his PlayStation). I don’t dream enough, and when I do I barely remember them and the ones I do remember always go a bit shit. Any dreams I have of playing football to a high level are always blighted by an inability to get out of walking pace whilst on the pitch. My enemies would say this merely reflects the reality of my intramural football career at Uni, but regardless, the same ailment always inflicts me in dreams.
So maybe Premiership teams could sell dreams from the club shop, for example. FA Cup Final Hero. Sponsored content by Budweiser (for the adults. Ribena Capri Sun milk sponsorship for the kids). As you regale your friends with how you scored the winner against the Arsenal in the pub, you will be oblivious to the fact that the reason you just bought a Bud is because they were on the advertising hoardings in your own mind’s Wembley.
So maybe we could create the ultimate form of native advertising.
Although on the flip side, there is an assumption that every piece of tech can evolve and improve to a level where it will always be usable and applicable to a human. Just because we can does not mean we should.
Part of me thinks that ultimately there comes a point where a human just needs to completely switch off.
The lesson here is, and I think this is relevant to everyone in marketing, ever; don’t bend to the will of a man with a mini trebuchet when looking to improve.
Trebuchet V’s Drone
A dose of normality to ground us. I was volunteering at my local country park recently and they had a medieval re-enactment show on, followed by an outdoor cinema evening.
An associate of the outdoor cinema crowd had brought a drone over. At first the park ranger was a little hesitant, but agreed to its use, and the dude let us both have a look through the flight vision goggles as he flew it. We were both instantly sold on it. It gave amazing views of the event and surrounding area and would provide great content for upload to their site.
But after a short while, Galahad from the medieval show (who were ensconced in the next field) ambled over and asked the guy to keep the drone away from them, as they did not want their privacy invaded. Just as the medieval set were loading up their trebuchet with melons to take aim at the drone, and I felt I was at the start of a particularly far-fetched episode of Midsomer Murders, it occurred to me that this situation encapsulates a good few issues in marketing: invasiness, the use of technology, the chase for elusive, quality content.
The lesson here is, and I think this is relevant to everyone in marketing, ever; don’t bend to the will of a man with a mini trebuchet when looking to improve.