LET'S FACE IT, YOU'RE LAZY.
That guy in the next cubicle eating a ham and cheese on rye is lazy. The mailroom assistant is lazy. Your vice president of marketing — she's lazy too.
People in general are lazy — and I count myself among that number. Heck, a burned-out light bulb in my bedroom recently went unchanged for three weeks — not because I was too busy to go to the store and buy new bulbs, but because each time I flipped the switch and remembered the bulb was shot, I was too lax to walk all the way downstairs to get a new bulb out of the cabinet.
You'd think laziness would be the worst possible thing for direct marketing, since the business lives and dies by people making a response to our offers. But that's not always the case. E-tailers like Amazon.com have become titans by exploiting laziness and allowing people to save their billing, shipping and credit information, along with other preferences, making the next purchase that much simpler. And after you've entered everything once, well, its too much trouble to skip to another site and do it again.
Of course, occasionally Amazon still likes to make consumers work. The site ran a recent promotion with Burger King, plugging the movie “Fantastic Four.” Diners who purchased a large or king-size meal received a game card with a discount code on it. To redeem the prize — anywhere from $1 to $10,000 in credit on Amazon — customers had to go to a dedicated Web page and enter the code to find out what they'd won. To claim the prize, registration on Amazon was required.
Personally, I was grumbly that I couldn't find out what I'd won while I was scarfing down my fish sandwich and fries. But yes, I did redeem my winnings the next time I was online.
Consumer laziness can be the bane of brick-and-mortar retailers too. Toys ‘R’ Us is one retailer that regularly asks patrons for their phone number. In a local outlet of the chain to make a quick purchase for my son one recent afternoon, I just didn't feel like giving them my phone number. I already receive their circulars and coupon fliers, so it wasn't a privacy thing. I just plain didn't feel like going through the trouble of reciting the 10 digits. I noticed the customers before and after me didn't either. Let's face it: It's kind of annoying to the average consumer to be asked to give up personal data every time they make a purchase as big as a bicycle or as small as a package of diaper wipes.
Of course, marketers can be lazy too — or at least they train their reps to be lazy…and well, rude. During business hours on my business phone line at home, I recently received a call from the March of Dimes, which I have donated to from time to time. The rep thanked me for my previous support, and asked if I'd be interested in sending envelopes to 10 neighboring households, appealing for money.
Now, while I do know the names of their kids, and whether they pile their rubbish neatly on trash day, I don't presume to know my neighbors' philanthropic habits. So I wasn't comfortable with the idea. I politely said “I'm sorry, but I don't think so” — and was immediately and unceremoniously hung up on without so much as a “Good day, madam.” The encounter didn't exactly generate good feelings on my part for the March of Dimes.
In the midst of a summer pledge drive, WBUR, a Boston-area National Public Radio affiliate ran a tongue-in-cheek promo pitching the concept of adding a 5-cent tax to every premium cup of coffee priced over $2. Would people support this if the tax went to benefit public radio? An overwhelming majority of those polled (who I believe had identified themselves as public radio listeners) said, sure, because it would be so easy. Many said they'd like to make donations to NPR, but always forgot to follow through and do so. Why don't they just pick up the phone and call or go online to make a donation? “Oh bother,” as Winnie-the-Pooh would say. That's too much trouble.
WBUR was just having fun with the tax idea. But a mayoral candidate in my town is taking it seriously. According to our weekly paper, he's proposing a plan implementing a 1% sales tax on all taxable transactions — this, he claims, would add $3 million to the local school budget in its first year. It's a noble idea, and certainly much less labor intensive for the townsfolk than bake sales and car washes. But not surprisingly — given the stiff competition from online sellers and big-box retailers in neighboring towns — local businesses aren't keen on the concept.
So, as a marketing organization, are you lazy? Or have you worked out ways to cater to your clientele's laziness, and make it work for you? E-mail me at bethdirect@aol.com and let me know. I'd call each of you and ask, but that would be too much work.
