The Subtle Art of Actually Giving a Sh...
And for some reason I praise the military-industrial complex
Hello Gobbledeers,
First:
This week on the Gobbledy Podcast:
I chat with Parry Malm, CEO of Phrasee, an email copy optimization platform. I’m always happy to talk about email marketing and about copy, and Parry is one of the few people who spends his non-family life thinking about both those things.
Listen on Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen to podcasts.
I have a confession:
Last week I lied a little bit to you.
Not a lot. Just a bit.
I said that I don’t like to curse in these newsletters (then I went on to curse, of course).
What I really meant was that I don’t like to curse indiscriminately. I do like to curse, um, discriminately.
I start with that because this week is about giving a shit.
Yes, It’s More Stuff about Volkswagen
This week’s New Yorker has a piece by Jill Lepore about the Volkswagen Bus that included a section I wanted to discuss here. But first, a very (very) short diversion:
Jill Lepore is a New Yorker writer who also teaches at Harvard. She wrote a a history of the United States called These Truths that is an absolutely incredible piece of work (and I am someone who reads basically no history). It draws a through-line, uh, through (?) 500 years of history and it made me re-think everything I knew (or thought I knew) about US history and changed how I thought about things that are happening today.
I should note that it’s 700 pages. It’s one of those books that sits on your nightstand, but it’s not one of those books that sits on your nightstand sad and ignored night after night.
Even if you hate reading and hate history and hate America, it’s noteworthy as a personal achievement. I know the difficulty of writing this newsletter weekly (and so do you, because for some reason I mention it twice a month), and I cannot begin to imagine what writing that book required of her. Also, as I mentioned, she teaches at Harvard. And writes a silly number of articles for the New Yorker. And raised kids. I’d say she’s able to accomplish all that because, like me, she has a degree from Michigan and is, therefore, amazing. But I’m guessing it’s more than that.
I am amazed by people who can produce that much quality material. And care so much about making it great. Because making something OK is pretty easy. But giving a shit is hard, and she may be the hardest working nonfiction writer out there.
Diversion over.
Sort of over. Because I really wanted to talk about giving a shit.
In the article, Lepore mentions a 1963 Volkswagen commercial (you can see it here, 35 seconds in) for the VW Bus, that includes this copy:
If your TV set broke down right now, could your wife find something to talk about? Is she the kind of wife that can bake her own bread? Does she worry about the arms race? Do the neighbors’ kids wish they had her for a mother? Will your wife say yes to a camping trip after fifty straight weeks of cooking? Will she let your daughter keep a pet snake in the back yard? Can you show up very late for dinner without calling first, with two old friends? Will your wife let the kids eat frankfurters for breakfast? Would she name a cat Rover? Would she let you give up your job with a smile and mean it? Congratulations. You have the right kind of wife for the Volkswagen station wagon.
There’s a print ad from this same campaign with similar copy:
(Editor’s note: Americans think differently about the role of wives nowadays.)
I love the copy in this campaign. I love it. Love. It.
“Does she worry about the Bomb?”
“Do the neighbors’ kids wish they had her as a mother?”
(Does she) “Name a cat ‘Rover’”?
(Editor’s note 2: Seriously, just put aside that the role of wives has changed…this was written during a different time, and this is not even slightly a comment on whether any of what is written is considered “acceptable” today. I mean, the VW ad ran at a time when this Jell-O pudding ad ran:)
Volkswagen had a couple of options for how to sell more VW Buses in the US:
The first option was to talk about the features of the bus itself - it carries a bunch of people; crazy amount of storage; can be highly customized; allows you to bore you grandchildren with stories about your 1965 VW Bus; you can literally install a kitchen in it; excellent for kidnapping; can also be your house.
The second option was to make it crystal clear who the target market is. This is much more difficult, as doing this often appeals to the basest instincts of your targeted customer (case in point: Axe body spray).
For Volkswagen, the decision to sell to the buyer (the husband) by appealing to how he feels about his wife (influencer) is masterful. And the way they define the wife (neighbors’ kids wish they had her as a mother) is actually very sweet. Also, it seems to suggest that you better have a wife who’s pretty flexible because this isn’t a normal car.
And how did the advertising agency get “Does she worry about the bomb?” to stay in there? Nobody at the client said, “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about nuclear war in this ad for a van”?
Or - and this is my point- maybe they did? And maybe they decided that great copy mattered more than being safe. That having words that actually elicit an emotional response matters. That telling a story that makes it clear who the product is for is more powerful than fear? That standing out instead of fitting in is more important than thinking of every reason why a reader might get upset?
I think it’s that they gave a shit.
I know people who write for software companies - the product marketers and the content marketers and the agencies who love them - do care about their work. And they want it to be good. Or great. (Well, good). But I’m not convinced the people above them do. Or above them. Or at the top. I think they want it to be fine. Or good enough. Or the same. Because they don’t give a shit. They give several shits about other things - they’re not devoid of shit giving. But they don’t give a shit about writing.
And if you’re a frustrated B2B content person, the next time you interview somewhere ask the CEO if that person gives a shit about content. They’ll say they will. Then you should ask them to name an example of marketing copy that someone who worked for them wrote that was really great. You’ll know from the example they give whether they give a shit. (Hint: they don’t.)
In the 1950s military contractor and aviation company General Dynamics hired graphic designer Erik Nitsche to work on its annual reports and advertising. As part of this role, he create some of the most iconic corporate imagery of the 1900s. Here’s an annual report cover he designed:
Yeah, it’s pretty great, right? The globe broken apart into geometric shapes, with the various product lines represented crossing it (the commercial jet, the military plane, the submarine, the missile (???)).
I wish I had the space to show more of his work for General Dynamics (check out the poster Atoms for Peace here).
Because the work is amazing, and that work of that caliber was used in a corporate setting seems inconceivable today.
And as amazing as that is, it’s more amazing that someone at General Dynamics cared enough to hire someone capable of this work, and then actually let them create these things.
That someone was the founder of General Dynamics, John Jay Hopkins.
However you feel about a guy who also may have created the military-industrial complex, he also gave a shit.
Readers’ Corner
Thanks to reader Double-J for this very-much-not-General-Dynamics-quality creative from Webex:
I promise I’m trying to actually make this newsletter enjoyable. Mostly. I’d love to hear any feedback or ideas for columns. Reach me any time at jared@sagelett.com or 917-541-0212.
Love this. If we're going to make marketing stuff, can it at least be striking and beautiful? Or at least have words used correctly and punctuation?
20 years from now nobody will care about the content of 2022 ebooks but it would be cool if someone was looking at them to understand the cultural context and design thinking of our times.