Four For Friday (22)

Since the last edit of this occasional series, the scope of this blog has grown to envelope all my interests. Curation becomes trickier, but on y va! Those, who used to follow the series in the past, will notice that there are now excerpts. These are mere amuse-bouche to nudge you to click and read the whole article linked!

Rebecca Robins explores what luxury means in the age of “you”, grounding luxury in history and modern technology at once.

In The Age of You, the fine line between what luxury brands reveal and conceal as they engage with the transparency demanded of consumers and the element of mystery that is endemic to their very being, will be fascinating to watch.

Liam McGee writes how CEOs can work in partnership with their boards of directors without sacrificing their own authority.

It’s all a matter of developing trust. In my five years as CEO of The Hartford, a Fortune 100 insurer, winning trust was crucial to turning around the company in the aftermath of the global financial crisis.

Building trust can be a delicate thing, but it isn’t magic. You don’t need special charisma. All you really need is courage and self-confidence.

Starting over can be a boost to creativity, not a mark of failure. This idea caught my attention: “what are you still good at?”

Coping with old age and illness in his later years, Henri Matisse could no longer hold a paintbrush. So he put away his oils and restarted in a new medium. Discovering he could work with scissors, Matisse began what he called “painting with scissors,” creating his famous cut-out works. It became one of the most prolific—and stunning—periods of his career.

Having spent the last three years thinking about design and creativity, I found Amrita Chandra’s piece on why businesses are investing in design naturally engrossing.

Industries are being disrupted at a much faster pace than ever before. Leah cited an Insight study that showed the lifespan of company going from 60 years in the 1960s to 18 years in 2012. The level of volatility organizations have to live with today is motivating them to behave in different ways, and design is seen as a solution to this volatility. This is one reason why management consulting companies from Anderson to McKinsey have acquired design firms in the last 8 years.

The age of un-empathy

“My Spotify drains my phone battery”, she said.

“Do you listen to it on streaming or offline?”, I asked.

“Why, yes I do listen to it on streaming!”

“So you see both the 3G access you are using and the app itself use battery. You can see battery use by app and make choices accordingly especially when you are outside and worried you couldn’t recharge your phone.”

“How do I do that?”, she immediately wanted to know.

Cue, search through settings and battery use data on her 4 year old Samsung Android phone.

“The guys at the Samsung store didn’t help me”, she lamented.

So we opened the settings to check battery use and she was horrified.

“Where did all these apps come from? I am not using them”, she said.

“Not right now, perhaps, but they may be running in the background or operating on a pull mechanism”, I said, weakly. And clearly, unhelpfully.

We then discussed what “pull” means, what other common uses may be battery-draining, how it may be necessary to behave differently to conserve battery, how some apps more than others drain battery, and other things she now needs to know, just so she can use the technology she deems essential to her work and her outside-work life.

There were several such moments, as I helped this 65 year old friend of mine. She needs to get to grips with some essential technology tools and social media as she works on taking her business global.

The detail about her age and her business are material here lest the rest of this reflection should get drowned in the assumptions that just because she is older, she is not “smart enough” or “compos mentis”.

She isn’t the first among my over-55 friends whom I have recently helped with their technology and social media needs. Phones and social networks all play a key role.

It is soon clear that much of the technology design has forgotten technology also serves our ageing population at hand.

IMF depiction of our ageing populations

Mobile phones have several non-obvious hidden access features, sometimes resistive touch screens, complicated pathways to switching off default settings on various apps and in case of Android phones, a fragmented ecosystem that confuses older users who did not cut their teeth on technology.

Social networks have arcane and complex privacy settings, light coloured buttons, light grey ellipses to access extra features, drop-down menus hidden behind little arrows, and of course, their own lingo for features.

It may even seem the ageing user is misbehaving i.e. not behaving in accordance with the designers’ expectations of their ability to make use of features they should be able to see (never mind almost universally weakening eye sight with age) or discover. Because, hey, it is so intuitive, you know!

What is wrong with this picture?

Is technology meant to exist for its own sake? Or is it meant to serve someone?

What are the design assumptions at work here? Do we care whom we are including — and whom we are excluding — by our design choices?

Can the growing numbers of ageing people be this invisible?

Post script

As she started to gather her things and prepare to leave, I said, trying to be helpful, “Of course, you could just buy a portable battery pack so you are never out of battery when you leave home.”

She put her things down and looked at me sternly, “That is now for another day, Shefaly. I cannot cope with this any more.”

Related reading:

Why I think “digital native” and “digital immigrant” typology is short-sighted and unhelpful

Luxury’s other heritage challenge

“You never actually own a Patek Philippe. You merely take care of it for the next generation.”

This well-known Patek Philippe tag line tells its customers that the brand’s heritage could be part of their own as they bequeath their Patek timepieces to their future generations.

Patek Philippe Generation Ad campaign

One can, of course, buy pre-owned Patek Philippe time pieces from dealers, or at auctions where the brand commands huge prices, which Patek no doubt monitors. The presence of complete documentation, including owner history and service records, adds to the heritage angle, hence the price tag. Patek also supports collectors’ clubs and offers to service any Patek, no matter what its journey to the present owner has been.

Brands such as Vacheron Constantin engage actively with not just the customers, who already own their watches but also those, who aspire to own a Vacheron timepiece one day.

That said, there are brands, who do not really do much for, or with, collectors.

Hermès comes to mind.

While active in developing, protecting and promoting its own brand image, Hermès famously does not support collectors’ clubs. There is still a brisk trade in second-hand Hermès scarves, bags and other artifacts. It is often difficult to verify if these goods are authentic or counterfeit, or even stolen (although the latter may be rarer).

Most established luxury brands’ own stories focus on the brand heritage. It is fascinating — and puzzling — however to see how little luxury brands do to honour (track?) how their customers create a story about these brands, steeping the luxury goods in their own family’s heritage.

This is a missed opportunity.

To create a luxury brand with longevity beyond the next season has to go beyond the brand extolling its own heritage. The stories that live on have to make sense, and be meaningful to those, who own and wear the products created by that brand.

And while everyone can participate in the democratic medium of the web, oral traditions and stories of familial heritage can still help preserve exclusivity for luxury brands, most of whom are still struggling to make up their mind on the matter.

Indeed one has to ask whether the idea of a heritage driven European brand of luxury has economic viability now that most of their growth is coming from Asian countries, many of whom boast a rich heritage going further back than any European brands!

Can lazy — even arrogant — brand marketing as luxury marques, reliant on their European heritage legacy, do now continue?

Don’t mind me though!

I have a simple curiosity.

I am just keen to hear from someone, whose family bought Hermès equestrian gear and riding equipment 300 years ago, and who is still wearing Hermès couture or carrying Hermès bags today.

(Thanks to Barbara Houdayer for the Twitter conversation, that sparked this monograph.)

Authenticity, genuineness and the luxury brand

A friend of mine is a genuine, passionate Porsche fan. Awaken him from deep sleep and start asking him about the Porsches he has owned through the years, and you begin to see how deep his fountain of knowledge, and his genuine affection for and attachment to the brand run.

Porsche North America Welcome KitHe showed me the letter that he received with his car. The opening paragraph talks about how Porsche is an exceedingly rare breed of automobile and continues to extol its virtues as follows:

“One born in the art of hand craftsmanship, with sporting bloodlines as genuine as the exhaust note. Every Porsche we build is a monument to authenticity … and the kind of unflinching performance that transforms the daily driving routine into one of fun, freedom and pure excitement.”

In the above, the bold is mine, the ellipsis theirs.

This is how the OED defines “genuine”:

1. Truly what something is said to be; authentic:
2. (Of a person, emotion, or action) sincere:

As I sat rifling through the pristine, understated luxurious contents of the welcome boxes  — he keeps them all — the conversation turned to engine sound enhancement technologies. My friend told me about the Porsche sound symposer, an intake sound amplifier now fitted into the new 911 and the Panamera. Intake sound amplifier to them, fake engine sound enhancement technique to you and me.

I cannot speak for anyone else. But two months on from that conversation, I am still reconciling “as genuine as the exhaust note” with the “sound symposer”.

How authentic or genuine is the latter?

Is it ok to use it because customers demand a quiet cruise and yet the primal pull of the sound we have all come to recognise as the Porsche engine?

Indeed my friend’s car doesn’t have this amplifier. When I am visiting him and am at home, that engine sound is how I know he is back. To that extent the signalling effect of the Porsche brand of cars does lie in its exhaust note.

Of course, I realise that the car itself is a manufactured artifact.

Given that, does sound enhancement detract from the authenticity of the engine roar?

Or should it be seen as just another way to make the customer happy by addressing his or her changed needs, and indeed, in case of hybrid cars, a way to address the critique that their quietness is potentially hazardous on the roads?

Signalling is often of the key functions a luxury brand serves. And brands know that.

“We are not selling watches to tell the time. We’re selling them to people who belong to a certain social class, who want to show off.” — Dominique Perrin, President, Cartier (in 1987)

Luxury brands also seek to deliver a wholesome sensual experience encompassing sound, sight, smell and touch. Porsche’s sound symposer, one could argue, just serves to enhance the audio experience and the signalling function of the brand.

Are existential questions such as this surplus to the conversation about brand building, or integral to it? What then is the source of a brand’s claim to authenticity?


Respectful design, contemptuous design

Conversations with many friends, who are building communities for social businesses or are in other customer-facing roles, reveal a shared frustration. It appears that community builders and customer facing persons, and designers in a business are singing from different hymn sheets. Often, once the beta or whatever the business deems a shippable version of the product (web, mobile, app or a physical product) has shipped, some sit back thinking the job is done.

Customer feedback, that then comes in, is often sidelined to make good of the already existing technology infrastructure. Worse, it is sometimes disregarded altogether.

As the face of the business, community builders find themselves in a tough spot.

“It is as if we not only fail to care, but that we are actually contemptuous of the customer,” one said to me.

The contempt for the customer shows in the design of the customer experience with the business. From web design, to the product, to packaging and in all other ways the business and the customer interact.

Often the customer cannot find the information she wants, or she cannot find the product she intends to get to know a bit more, or the worst, she cannot really buy your product. And as seen in the case of frustrating clamshell packaging, sometimes she just cannot get to the product!

Why does this happen?

Because not enough attention is paid to understanding the customer’s journey or her desire behind engaging with the business. Insufficient work goes into testing how the customer might feel while trying to do business with the company. Efforts are made to defend the costs already incurred, not to acknowledge that that investment was not producing any returns.

In other words, not nearly enough respect is accorded to the thought that the business wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the customer.

This is what I call contemptuous design.

Contemptuous design privileges technology and sunk cost over customer journey, experience and engagement. Respectful design, on the other hand, privileges the customer’s desires and experience over everything else, so the business can continue to exist and possibly thrive.

No checklists are required to distinguish contemptuous design from respectful design. As customers, we know how we are being treated when we make first contact with a business.

As business owners, we need to be honest about the conversations we are having or enabling or hearing about our customers. If the customer is seen as an encumbrance, we are squarely in the realm of contemptuous design.

But if we feel the customer’s pain and want to deliver a good experience to her, we are making strides towards respectful design.

It really is that simple.