I'm Just a Bill.

There are as many ways to define a brand as there is corruption in politics. If you ask ten advertising people (hurry, there are only about a dozen left after all of this week's 'synergies') you'll probably get fifty definitions. It's likely all of them will have some elements of truth in them. Defining what brand means is a bit like defining "pretty," or "love," or "freedom." Brand means different things to different people at different times.

But for me, the dyed-the-wool-New Yorker, much of my cosmology orbits around a certain solipsistic question: "what's in it for me?" That leads me to define brand this way: "a brand is a promise to a customer."

That is what will you do for me? How will you behave? What can I expect from you for the money and/or time I give to you?

I'm sure a simple statement like "a brand is a promise to a customer" will upset a lot of people. For one, it's easy to understand. Second, it's not high-falutin' and complicated sounding. Third, I'm not a brand-strategist. What right do I have to offer a point of view on something so intellectualized and professional? Last, it's not ™. How can it be valid if it's not convoluted?

But I'll stick to my definition. 

If I were in the supermarket and looking at the 77 different kinds of lemon-fresh soap, which one makes a promise that I can respect, remember and believe? Same for hamburger joints. Cars. Even what agency I'd choose to work for if I were ever again, heaven forfend, going to work for an agency.

I've held onto this brand-as-promise belief for a couple of decades now. Not to give away too many GeorgeCo., LLC, a Delaware Company's secrets, very often I talk to clients about my brand-as-promise belief. 

I usually say something like, "You might spend $5000 a year on your cell service, your ISP and your cable. Outside of promising a triple-play bundle, you have no idea what you're going to get for all that money. When the installer comes to set up your cable and your internet, you'll get about a dozen goldenrod pages with eight-point type on them. You have no idea what your service entails. You know what you have to do..pay every month. You have no idea what they're doing for your money. What happens when service stops, there's an outage, you don't understand your bill? What does the 'brand' do for you then?"

Most clients nod politely, glance at their watches and hope someone will make it stop.

Then I trot something out.

"That's why I wrote your brand a Bill of Rights. It's what you believe. It's how you work. It's your commitment to your customer. Your salesforce can deliver it. It can be on your site. On the back of business cards. It's your brand and your promise."

There's a Yiddish word, kvell, that best captures client reactions. They're thrilled that I've done the work and helped elevate them. They thank me. They pay me. Then, usually, it goes nowhere. 

Why put anything your brand can't do in writing?

In any event, your brand should write a Bill of Rights. And you should stick to your beliefs and practices.

Here are GeorgeCo.'s. As found on my site.

I'd be happy to write yours. 

For a hefty fee. (That's on-brand.)