Who succeeds in the Long Tail?

In The New Rules of Marketing and PR, author David Meerman Scott references Chris Anderson’s book, The Long Tail. Scott is a proponent of this theory, which states that “our culture and economy is moving away from a focus on a relatively small number of ‘hits’ at the head of the demand curve and toward a huge number of niches in the tail” (Scott 18).

This is a viable theory. The shelving constraints of the brick-and-mortar store do not exist on the Web, so consumers now have access to essentially anything they want to buy. They don’t have to wait for the product to appear on shelves. Furthermore, the searching and browsing capabilities of Web-based shopping allows consumers to find products that they may have never known existed otherwise. This gives consumers complete control of their shopping experience—they can find exactly what they want when they want it, and their choices are no longer limited to whatever the hottest items of the month are.

While the theory makes sense, I question the reality of it. In his book, Scott references three companies to demonstrate the truth of the Long Tail theory:

“Some of today’s most successful Internet businesses leverage the long tail to reach underserved customers and satisfy demand for products not found in traditional physical stores. Examples include Amazon, which makes available at the click of a mouse thousands of books not stocked in local chain stores; iTunes, a service that legally brings niche music not found in record stores to people who crave artists outside the mainstream; and Netflix, which exploited the long tail of demand for movie rentals beyond the blockbuster hits found at the local DVD rental shop” (Scott 18).

I believe that all three of these companies bring consumers products—be it book, song, or movie—that may not be available in stores. But all three of these companies bring consumers everything—blockbuster hits as well as niche choices. Therefore, I think it’s inaccurate to say that they owe their success to their exploitation of the Long Tail. They may sell a small number of niche products to niche markets, but I believe their profit margins depend on the sale of hits, and their homepages prove it.

• Right now on the Amazon books homepage, placed above-the-fold, is a list of books they would like to sell me placed under the heading, “Spring Reading Preview: Blockbusters.”

• Right now on iTunes is a list of top singles and albums that I can conveniently purchase with the click of a mouse right from the homepage. I heard each and every one of these on the radio yesterday.

• Right now on the Netflix browsing homepage is a scrolling list of newly released DVDs that I can rent from them. The new Bruce Willis movie is up there, along with Michael Jackson’s This Is It, and a number of other options, all of which I have seen advertised on TV.

If I dug deep and knew exactly what I was looking for, I could find products on these sites that I have not seen in the bookstore, previewed in the theater, or heard on the radio. But I am a mainstream girl. I have mainstream friends. I exist in the head of this long-tailed beast, and based on a quick glance at the homepages of these leading Web-based companies, I believe that I represent the consumer demographic they are catering to. They know where they make their money, and that is in selling the hits. Based on Scott’s example of the Long Tail theory, I believe a company must be an industry leader in the first place—able to offer their consumers everything that is available—in order to find any success in the Long Tail.

In publishing, what is the brand and what is the product?

When considering the question for this week’s blog post, “What is the difference between brand marketing and product marketing?” I began to wonder if this question would cause quite as much confusion if applied to any other industry. A car manufacturer makes many different models (products), but they all clearly belong to that manufacturer (brand). For example, Volkswagen would never release a car without their brand—represented by a VW emblem, in this case—firmly affixed to the hood. And while Volkswagen markets each of their products individually—each model has its own ad, for example—the Volkswagen brand is apparent throughout. A consumer can typically spot a Volkswagen car, or recognize a Volkswagen ad, without needing to see the familiar VW sign. This is because the brand has been developed and marketed so effectively and consistently.

In publishing, however, the line between product and brand is not so clear. Sure, a book published by Random House will have a Random House logo printed somewhere in the front matter. But when a consumer sees marketing material for a Random House book—on a poster in the bookstore or on a booksellers’ website, for example—the logo is difficult, if not impossible to find. And thus the consumer has no idea who published that book. And they don’t usually care. This is because the Random House “brand” is not consistent. They don’t publish in only one genre. They don’t have a standard book cover. They don’t have a catch phrase. I would be surprised if a person who has no interest in the book industry even knows what the Random House logo looks like. (It’s a house, duh.)

The reason the question “what is the difference between brand marketing and product marketing?” is so confusing for the book industry is because it is not entirely clear what is the brand and what is the product.

Merriam-Webster defines brand as “a class of goods identified as the product of a particular firm or producer.” The Marketing Spot blog describes a brand as “the emotional and psychological relationship you have with your consumers. Strong brands elicit thoughts, emotions, and sometimes physiological responses from customers.” According to traditional understanding and consumer expectations, Random House is the manufacturer and would thus create the brand awareness for their products—the books. And using this logic, a consumer should be able to spot a Random House book from a mile away.

This isn’t the case, however, because Random House books, and just as importantly, Random House authors, are brands in themselves. And I believe that is just how Random House wants it. Random House publishes Suze Orman, Dan Brown, and John Grisham. Doesn’t each of these authors have a class of good that can be identified with them? Do they not elicit thoughts and emotions from the customers that buy their books? And even Random House titles published by unknown authors don't sell because Random House published them; they sell because they have affected some thought or emotion in the reader. In this way each book becomes a brand in itself—or a good that is identified as the product of a particular movement, thought, etc.
It could be argued that using Random House as an example for the entire book industry isn't 100 percent accurate. Harlequin, for example, publishes romance novels, and their readers are very loyal to that brand, reading every book in a series as they would watch every episode of a soap opera. But the Harlequin model, which has been successful for them, doesn’t represent the traditional book publisher as we know it today. Harlequin markets their books as products, with consistency in genres, cover design, and even authorship. It's not too hard to spot a Harlequin from a distance because they employ a consistent branding model, much as a car manufacturer would do.

So, in answer to the questions “do publishers rely primarily on brand marketing or product marketing?” and “are both forms of marketing equally effective?” I would have to say yes. Although books are a publishers’ product, they are each branded and marketed as single entities, thus falling under the category of brand marketing. And historically, this has been an effective way to market books. People are not interested in the publisher (manufacturer); they are interested in the book (product) they hold in their hands. See how blurry this line can become? Can you imagine buying a car with no care for who the manufacturer is?

As the face of the publishing industry evolves, it may make sense for the book industry to transition to a more traditional form of brand marketing, much as Harlequin has successfully done. Publishing books in a single genre, to a niche market, under a consistent brand may be the key to success as the Long Tail theory proves true.

I can't concentrate!

Over the past year, I have become increasingly concerned about my attention-span. I still consider myself a good listener, and I can still focus on a specific project for hours on end when necessary. But I have noticed a significant decline in the amount of reading that I do. It’s not because I’m uninterested, it’s because I can’t concentrate for longer than a few pages. This was not my reality as an undergraduate at Oregon State. I read like a mad-woman for school and pleasure. Today, however, it takes a really gripping book to keep my mind from wondering.

I am not sure why the change, but I like to attribute it to my increased use of the internet, as opposed to decreasing intelligence. The only thing I really used my computer for during my undergraduate years was word processing, email, and maybe a little research. I never shopped online, I never read news online, and I certainly never watched TV online. Today, all of those things are a part of my everyday life.

I am not all together pleased by this new reality. I like the direct access to information and entertainment, but I miss the days when this wasn’t a constant distraction. And it makes me wonder: If I am so affected by the internet after only a handful of years of regular use, what does the generation that is growing up with this new technology face? With all the benefits of the internet, it raises a serious concern over the sustained concentration abilities of the younger generation.

There is another way to look at this issue, however. The internet is still somewhat new to me. I never used it in high school, and my use in college was limited. I grew up with restricted TV time and a library of books in my bedroom. Could it be that my brain is simply over-stimulated by this new medium? Could it be that my four-year-old nephew, who has his own laptop and launched a discussion about On-Demand TV at dinner tonight, will be “wired” a little bit differently than me by the time he is my age?

The thought of reading a book online doesn’t really bother me. But the thought of having internet access at my fingertips while reading that book makes me sure that I would never read a whole book again. The book would bring up a question in my mind and I would leave the text, only to become lost in a maze of internet searches. Or, heaven forbid, what if the text actually had links embedded in it, where you could click to find further information on the subject? I would never read anything longer than a paragraph again.

Granted, having the internet available while reading might allow me to access more information and learn more about a subject than was ever possible before, but what about the depth of that subject? What about the satisfaction of becoming buried in a text and, when finished with it, placing the book on the shelf like a trophy, with a little sigh of satisfaction at your own accomplishment. No matter how our brains are “wired,” I think living in brief snippets instead of continuous text would be a loss for us all.

What's a publisher to do?

When I shop for something on the internet, I know what I am looking for, and I have an idea of where I want to get it. If I need new running shoes, for example, I will visit a site such as Nike.com, where I am sure to find a selection of athletic shoes. And when I shop for a book, I will also visit a site where I am sure to find what I am looking for—most likely, Amazon.com. My point is that when I shop online, I want it to be efficient. If I feel like trying on fifty pairs of shoes, or browsing through stacks of books, I will go to the mall.

And this is precisely why publisher’s websites should not be targeted directly to the consumer. It is inefficient for both the reader and the publisher. I have no idea who published ninety-eight percent of the books on my bookshelf. So, why would I search for a title on a publishers’ site when I have no idea if they even published it in the first place. And how would a publisher use a website to increase their sales when it is not even targeted to their primary customer—the bookseller.

I believe publishers are aware of this problem. They already know that their primary customers are booksellers. However, under the traditional model of publishing, it wouldn’t make too much sense to design their site to target booksellers either. A publishers’ sales force visits book buyers across the country, and gives a presentation specifically tailored to each buyer. And they want that sense of control. Sure, the books are the same. But the price isn’t. The pitch isn’t.

So, what's a publisher to do?

In this day and age, it is essential for a company to have a website. It gives them credibility. It helps them reach their customers. The publishing industry has tried to conform to this new standard. But the industry is old, and the houses are huge, and I imagine the decision-makers within these houses have been in their positions since before the internet was a concern. So getting a big, old dinosaur like this to create a new, efficient, and stream-lined marketing tool such as a website is a lot to ask. They are just trying to keep up.

There are some smaller, innovative publishers that are trying to boost their direct sales and create sites that are more interactive. For example, Underland Press in Portland created the “wovel,” a web-novel. Readers can go on the website, read an installment, and vote on what should happen in the next chapter. This brings people to the site, and helps to drive up sales of the publisher’s other books. Other publishers have posted entire books online with an option to buy the book on each “page.” These publishers are adamant that people frequently buy a book even when they have this free access, just for the convenience of owning a copy.

While these are extreme examples, I think a similar approach would work for large publishers as well. Becoming an online “store,” with the primary goal being to sell books directly to readers is not realistic for a publisher like Random House. Their list is too broad and readers can buy their books cheaper elsewhere. But creating a site that provides readers interactive and frequently updated information—such as sample chapters of a new release, an option to vote on the cover design for an upcoming title, or live chat sessions with an author, for example—would result in a site that consumers seek out and visit again and again. And it would ultimately drive up sales through the publishers sales primary channel—the bookseller.

What are we losing to the Internet?

We have gained a lot in this age of the Internet. Breaking news can now spread across the globe in a matter of seconds rather than hours or days. A question—no matter how trivial—can be answered with the touch of a button rather than a search through the encyclopedia. And no one has an excuse anymore for not getting in touch.

The Internet has not only changed personal lives—connecting people like never before—it has revolutionized the way we do business. For example, sales and marketing forces can reach customers around the world through their websites and other online marketing efforts. But with everything professionals have gained through the use of the Internet, what have they lost? Certain levels of professionalism, previously taken for granted, seem to have been forgotten in the wake of change.

While reading The New Rules of Marketing and PR, by David Meerman Scott, this blogger was struck by the casual tone the author uses. Phrases such as “how cool is that?” and “freaked out” make their way into this book and jump off the page as unusual, or even inappropriate, for a business book. The author is aware of his informality. In fact he explains it in the introduction. “You’ll notice that I write in a familiar and casual tone, rather than the formal and stilted way of many business books, because I am using my ‘blog voice’ to share the new rules with you...”

His blog voice? A casual blog voice seems appropriate for a personal blog. We all use jargon, slang, and casual language when speaking with family and friends. But professionalism in tone and word choice used to be essential for credibility and respect among colleagues. This man is a leader in his industry and he writes “freak out” in the introduction to his book?

And this new vernacular seems to be spreading. Even Robert Scoble wrote in the foreword to Scott’s book, “Most people don’t like running fast in business. They feel more comfortable if there are committees…to cover their asses.” Cover their asses? If this new blog voice has infiltrated professional, print material to this extent in 2010, I shudder to think what my children may someday read in their text books.

I understand that The New Rules of Marketing and PR is an instruction on using online tools, and therefore using a blog voice is understandable. But I noticed this voice, even before Scott’s disclaimer, and it made me wonder, where will it end? The Internet has already changed the way people do business and its potential is great; however, this blogger worries about the price we may eventually pay when something as basic as professional language—whether in a physical, print, or cyber setting—suffers.

On the cluttered Internet, less is more.

Publisher’s websites have a tendency to be very crowded. Whether it’s a cover image and description of every title on their current list, an endless column of links to their social networking pages and blogs, or a mish-mesh of authors’ faces, one look at a site such as Faber and Faber is enough to turn this novice blogger away. Granted, Faber and Faber’s site represents a wonderful publisher and has a plethora of information for a number of audiences, but just looking at the home page was overwhelming for me; I did not try to delve too deeply.

Another publisher that got it wrong (and I fear posting this for the backlash I will likely receive) is McSweeney’s. I love this press and I think they do amazing work, but I could not be more confused by their websites. Yes, I said websites. I think this press has three, with no clear of way of linking to each other. I realize that each of these sites is serving a different purpose, and perhaps trying to reach a different audience. The whole network of information was so confusing to me, however, that, while entertaining in content, I could not quite pin down what audience they were trying to address and where those audiences would find information pertinent to them.

Are you a twenty-something hipster sitting in your San Francisco loft wanting to subscribe to McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern? Be careful to not accidently purchase a subscription to The Believer Magazine, or the McSweeney’s Book Release Club, or heaven forbid, a combo of the three. The check-out is a little confusing. Are you, perhaps, an author hoping to submit work to this reputable press? Good luck. I never found that information. I love McSweeney’s, but the websites gave me a headache.

A breath of fresh air after the onslaught of information was Scholastic.com. It was apparent from the first glance at this clean homepage that Scholastic is a publisher of children’s books, with an interest in the education market. Their audiences are clearly defined and labeled on the menu: teachers, parents, kids, administrators, and librarians. A menu item labeled “More” led this browser to a page containing media highlights, contact and submission information, community programs, and a number of other potential points of interest for the audiences outside of their target. This site was easy to navigate, minimal in background color and design, and clearly targeted at the audiences they serve.

I know that websites come in all shapes and sizes. But when trying to sell a good to a consumer, no matter the audience that consumer belongs too, I think presenting the information in a way that is easy to navigate is the best approach. In my opinion, less clutter on a website will equal more sales.  

Book Selection: The New Rules of Marketing and PR

In picking a book for this course I looked for a title that would give me a general overview of new media tools, the marketing opportunities within this new framework, and the new consumer climate emerging from the use of new media. I was less interested in a book that would give me specific ideas for online marketing projects or a book that focused on one online marketing tool. With that in mind, I narrowed down the reading list to ten potential titles before I even began my online research.

The best place to find comprehensive information on the ten titles I was interested in was Amazon.com. This website lists the product description, specifications, reviews, and comparable reading on a single page. In addition to the information available on the book’s page, all of the books I researched had the Amazon.com “Search Inside” feature, which allowed me to browse each of the books just as if I had picked it up off the shelf.

There were a number of reasons why I eventually eliminated all but one book. I placed a lot of trust in the reviews posted on Amazon.com. All of the books had more positive reviews than negative (probably because the author’s acquaintances, or the author himself, contributed to the reviews) but books that did not have as many people commenting, or that had a mixture of positive and negative reviews, did not seem as reputable to me.

I also spent a lot of time using the “Search Inside” feature. Even after reading the jacket copy and reviewers comments, I found the table of contents to be a huge decision making factor for me. Even if everything on the Amazon.com site made the book look intriguing, a table of contents that seemed dull or inconsistent with the other information I read about the book led me to eliminate the title.

After reviewing the books on Amazon.com, I narrowed down my options to three titles: The New Rules of Marketing and PR, Groundswell, and DigiMarketing. Each of these titles had strong reviews, intriguing contents, and the general approach to new media and marketing I was interested in. At this point I moved my search to Powells.com. Because I am not using my credit card right now, I knew I would have to go to a bookstore to purchase the book. I figured the availability through Powell’s would be my ultimate deciding factor.        

I have never purchased a book from Powells.com, and I was really impressed with the information I found there. Not only did they have the product description, table of contents, and reviews for the titles I was considering, they also had a list of where the book was available through their stores and the quantity in stock. This made it so easy to quickly eliminate two of my options and decide to purchase The New Rules of Marketing and PR (available at the Burnside store, in the Business: Marketing section, in paperback, with eight copies to choose from).