Imperfection

Why do we prefer brands that aren’t quite perfect? Why does a photo of Nordic prime ministers in sweatpants appeal to us more than a press conference in suits? And how is it possible that a brewery that defends the right to slap a woman on the butt inspires more trust than polished corporate campaigns? Welcome to the world of relevance—where a brand doesn’t win your favor by being the best, but by understanding what matters to you. And where a leader doesn’t have to be perfect, but can have the same flaws as their voters—whether it’s a ill-fitting tie or a lack of knowledge of Czech grammar. 

We find the most appealing those brands that dispel our doubts and address issues that are sensitive to us. Brands, institutions, and leaders that reduce our sense of vulnerability—even if only by clearly demonstrating empathy for our feelings. This is shown by a recent Edelman Barometer survey. So if a brand understands what threatens its target audience and what issues are sensitive to them, it will earn their trust. 

This trend has been rising year over year for a long time, and not just among the younger generation. Between 2020 and 2021 alone, 10% more people in their 40s reported that a brand is more trustworthy and relevant to them if it reduces their sense of vulnerability and understands their sensitive issues. At the same time, however, the older the population, the more effective protective messaging is. Among people in their 50s, this applies to over 80 percent of those surveyed. 

But what does “sensitive topic” mean? It’s a topic significant enough that I feel it threatens my future and my present. And while people have opinions on everything, not all of those opinions are equally important to them. This is called salience. And it can be measured—if I give you a choice of twenty social issues, the ones that make it into the top three will be the ones that matter most to you. Research also shows that while we may have strong opinions on other issues as well, when it comes to significant issues, we’re willing to endure significantly more personal discomfort to resolve them than we are with other issues. This is clearly illustrated by measurements of how significant the fight against climate change is to the EU population. 

The graph clearly shows the growing importance of this issue for the EU population between 2012 and 2019. What happened after that? As surveys across the continent show, people have not drastically changed their views on climate change and the need to combat it vigorously. Instead, the COVID-19 pandemic, the war in Ukraine, and economic stagnation took top priority in their minds. This is due to the psychological effect known as the “proximity problem.” The closer we perceive a problem to be (in terms of time or geography), the more serious it seems to us. 

Your brand will earn trust if its motivation for doing what it does addresses the concerns of its target audience. Your mission (why do we do this?) must show empathy toward the concerns and important issues of the people you want to engage. If you do everything you can to help them address their important issues, you’ll earn their trust and come across as authentic. “They understand me, so they’re just like me.” 

"Virtue signaling" is the English term for a phenomenon that is difficult to translate into Czech. Wikipedia translates it as “Mávání vlastnostmi.” Perhaps we could call it “moral boasting.” 

We all do it. We wear T-shirts from charity runs—not because it helps the charity, but because it makes us look like we’re helping. We buy recycled bags that say so on them. If we were really concerned about recycling, it would be enough for us to know that the bag is recycled—it wouldn’t need to be written on it. We review products on social media not to advise others, but to show that we’re users of that particular brand or product. 

Flaunting Virtues

Virtue signaling is usually rational and purposeful. In addition to traditional qualities such as strength or beauty, we also need to know that we share the same values in order to form a relationship, thereby minimizing the number of conflicts and disagreements. 

Brands also tout their virtues because they sense that their customers will respond to them. Whether it’s ESG or a desire to return to the old world, where a man could still slap a woman on the butt. But which virtue they choose tends to be random or based on their managers’ hunches. Yet it turns out that a preference for certain virtues is based on personality traits. And those can be measured. The so-called Big Five—five personality traits: openness, agreeableness, neuroticism, extraversion, and conscientiousness—have been measured for nearly a century, and it turns out that they do not change across generations or with age. These personality traits are even evident in measurements of chimpanzees. 

So if you want to define your brand’s mission and determine which virtue it should champion, it makes sense to consider which personality traits predominate among your customers and employees (or to measure them, for example, through gamification methods). It turns out, for example, that a high score in openness typically leads to more liberal attitudes toward the LGBT+ community, while high agreeableness leads to a concern for those who need help. Kamala Harris staked everything on the cultural issue of LGBTQ+ support in the recent election. Although a large portion of voters express support for minorities in surveys, this does not mean it is necessarily an important issue for them. In times of economic crisis and global fears of World War III, you have other priorities. 

Your mission doesn’t necessarily have to be positive and feel-good. Many leaders, institutions, and brands have missions that you wouldn’t necessarily frame and hang on your wall, but they’re relevant to their target audience. The Bernard Brewery’s mission is to fight for the old world, because the consumers of its beer are elderly men who fear they are becoming irrelevant and find it difficult to navigate the new world. They express their fears by insisting they have the right to call a Black person “Black” and to slap a woman on the butt. Kaufland’s mission is to fulfill your right to cheap groceries, regardless of how harmful they are to human health or the environment. Their customers are primarily afraid of price increases; concerns about their health or the environment come much further down the list. Similarly, the mission of some automakers that produce electric cars may be to fulfill every customer’s right to breathe clean air—even if the precious metals for their cars are mined by Africans under inhumane conditions. After all, clean air comes first for them. 

The Era of Relevance

Marketing has entered a new era—the era of relevance. Traditional marketing approaches may not be enough to sustain a successful business in the long term. The traditional 4 Ps (product, place, price, promotion) are a good foundation to start with, but you can no longer rely on them entirely. We have a new set of 5 Ps: Purpose, Pride, Partnership, Protection, and Personalization.

But how did we get here? A brief history of marketing will suffice. The first chapter is the mass market. In the 1960s and 1970s, mass production made it possible to penetrate mass markets. Everyone focused on production and scaling. The slogan of that era was: more! The more a company produced, the better it performed. Nothing else mattered. Customers weren’t really taken into account; the individual was just a number in the crowd.

In the 1980s, marketing research tools emerged, and marketers began to make greater use of them. This led to a focus on market segmentation and specific target groups. Various product categories began to emerge, ranging from traditional to premium products, from products exclusively for women or men to private-label brands offered by large retail chains. 

In the 1990s, new technological developments enabled a new approach to the market through the processing of personalized customer data. At that time, the relationship between the company and the customer was the most important factor. Marketers focused on how to increase the customer’s lifetime value and how to meet their needs. 

In 2010, advanced customer relationship management enabled a new approach to the market. At that time, customer loyalty was the key indicator of success. Marketers focused primarily on customer experiences and relationships.

And finally... relevance. We’re in the 2020s. The year 2020—a year of unpleasant surprises. In today’s world, the digitization of everything allows for a personalized approach to each individual. It’s quite difficult to attract customers when they have everything at their fingertips. In the coming years, marketing should focus on customer experiences and personalities. Brands must be relevant to their target audiences; otherwise, customers will shop elsewhere. Relevance is the only way to stand out in an oversaturated market—whether you’re a private company or a politician.

Leaders I Can Trust

So how does a brand become relevant to its target audience? It’s a combination of authenticity, mission, and trust. Your mission builds trust that you understand your people. And authenticity makes you human. This is often symbolized by a touch of imperfection. After all, perfection often raises expectations and, as a result, leads to disappointment. Imperfection makes you a believable brand. Whether it’s Boris Johnson’s wild hairstyle, Donald Trump’s clownishly red tie, or Andrej Babiš’s mix of Czech and Slovak. Often, though, it’s enough to simply show yourself as an ordinary person. This is how the President of Finland and the prime ministers of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden meet for a dinner together. Except that it’s not in Lány, but in the kitchen of one of their homes. They aren’t wearing suits, but regular sweaters, and they certainly aren’t holding their forks according to etiquette. I’m talking about a photo that recently went viral and became a great example of authentic leaders—the kind you can trust. 

Of course, in these crazy times, we need crazy leaders. They’re merely a reflection of the chaos in our civilization, where a large part of society is so frustrated that all it wants to do is have fun. And the mission of today’s leaders is to put on a never-ending show. The only option is to turn off the stage lights for them, which—in an era of the attention economy and the financial dependence of the media—both traditional and social—on a constant stream of content—will be difficult to achieve. When this all comes to a head, when will the final act be? Or, just like in a musical, is there still one more, incredibly long song waiting for us?