Monday, May 14, 2007
A TALE OF TWO NOTEPADS
Last week, I received a package from the Red Cross. They very kindly enclosed a note pad featuring a tranquil sailboat scene. My reaction: "Thank you, Red Cross. Maybe I'll send you a donation."
I also received a mailing from another charity and they, too, were kind enough to enclose a note pad. Theirs featured 11 tick boxes accompanied by lines to fill out, forming a to-do list.
But I'm ticked off at them. The first line on every sheet is already filled in...supposedly a reminder to myself to send them a donation.
I'm sure they think it's a terrific move: "Hey, by doing this, every time this guy goes to use our note pad, there will be the reminder that he needs to send us a donation."
But will I donate even if I think the cause is worthy? No. I no longer consider their gift to be a gift. To me, it's just an advertising message. And why should I give money to an advertiser if I get nothing tangible in return?
Now, the Red Cross on the other hand didn't go Machiavellian on me. So they're in line for a gift from me.
BANK ON TRICKERY
The Royal Bank has been broadcasting a pretty effective TV commercial lately, promoting its RBC Avion Card. It's targeted towards people who have been frustrated by their inability to cash in their travel rewards points.
If you live in Canada, you've seen what appears to be a big jet travelling down the runway. Then the voiceover asks you why, when you go to redeem a free flight, suddenly there are no seats available.
At this point, the video shows a plane that's had about 150 seats removed from its fuselage. To say the jet looks stubby and unaccommodating would be an understatement.
The marketing folks at Royal were wise enough to incorporate the theme into their latest direct mail package, which I received last week.
The letter shows what looks like that stubby little plane in full colour so you're reminded of the TV spot. It's accompanied by the question, "When you try to book a seat, does your rewards card come up short?"
If you pull back the fold-over on the right hand side of the letter, the shortened plane becomes a full-sized one. The copy under it reads, "Get the RBC Avion card and get the seats..."
Great message. Great delivery. Great involvement technique. Bad move.
What's wrong with it?
The outer envelope is a plain (no pun intended) kraft one only featuring the Royal's logo. When I received it, I was sure that it was a statement about the RRSPs I hold with them. When I opened it up, though, I discovered that they were pushing a credit card instead of telling me how my retirement investment had performed.
I don't like being tricked by anyone, much less by a financial institution that has my retirement nest egg in its hands. And since they've had to stoop to trickery, are they really that confident in the message their communicating?
One guy's not about to take the risk to find out. His name is...
Dr. Bob
b_knight@telus.net
Last week, I received a package from the Red Cross. They very kindly enclosed a note pad featuring a tranquil sailboat scene. My reaction: "Thank you, Red Cross. Maybe I'll send you a donation."
I also received a mailing from another charity and they, too, were kind enough to enclose a note pad. Theirs featured 11 tick boxes accompanied by lines to fill out, forming a to-do list.
But I'm ticked off at them. The first line on every sheet is already filled in...supposedly a reminder to myself to send them a donation.
I'm sure they think it's a terrific move: "Hey, by doing this, every time this guy goes to use our note pad, there will be the reminder that he needs to send us a donation."
But will I donate even if I think the cause is worthy? No. I no longer consider their gift to be a gift. To me, it's just an advertising message. And why should I give money to an advertiser if I get nothing tangible in return?
Now, the Red Cross on the other hand didn't go Machiavellian on me. So they're in line for a gift from me.
BANK ON TRICKERY
The Royal Bank has been broadcasting a pretty effective TV commercial lately, promoting its RBC Avion Card. It's targeted towards people who have been frustrated by their inability to cash in their travel rewards points.
If you live in Canada, you've seen what appears to be a big jet travelling down the runway. Then the voiceover asks you why, when you go to redeem a free flight, suddenly there are no seats available.
At this point, the video shows a plane that's had about 150 seats removed from its fuselage. To say the jet looks stubby and unaccommodating would be an understatement.
The marketing folks at Royal were wise enough to incorporate the theme into their latest direct mail package, which I received last week.
The letter shows what looks like that stubby little plane in full colour so you're reminded of the TV spot. It's accompanied by the question, "When you try to book a seat, does your rewards card come up short?"
If you pull back the fold-over on the right hand side of the letter, the shortened plane becomes a full-sized one. The copy under it reads, "Get the RBC Avion card and get the seats..."
Great message. Great delivery. Great involvement technique. Bad move.
What's wrong with it?
The outer envelope is a plain (no pun intended) kraft one only featuring the Royal's logo. When I received it, I was sure that it was a statement about the RRSPs I hold with them. When I opened it up, though, I discovered that they were pushing a credit card instead of telling me how my retirement investment had performed.
I don't like being tricked by anyone, much less by a financial institution that has my retirement nest egg in its hands. And since they've had to stoop to trickery, are they really that confident in the message their communicating?
One guy's not about to take the risk to find out. His name is...
Dr. Bob
b_knight@telus.net

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