Finding a brand voice is hard. Really hard.

But there are brands that do it well (at least for awhile). Apple. Mini Cooper. The Economist. Every time you see a marketing effort for one of these brands, it’s as if it were created by the same person that did the last one. Different execution, same voice.

How do they do it where others fail?

Finding the right brand voice requires two things. First you have to know exactly who your consumer is. If your target market is “everyone” you will never have a brand voice that stands out. You’ll sound just like everyone else targeting everyone. Second, you need an almost fascist dedication to consistency over time. It also helps to work with a good writer.

One brand that did it exceptionally well from 1997 until 2005 was Miller High Life. In a category of cheap jokes masquerading as ads, it is clear that the MHL brand team understood exactly who they were talking to—men. Real men. Not college boys who greet each other by saying, “Wazzup,” a dozen times. Men who could appreciate skills like backing up a boat trailer.

Men who weren’t worried about their diets.

Men who don’t cheat.

Real men.

A terrific example of a brand voice (not just Doug Jeffer’s voice overs, but also the writing, the photography, the subject matter) used consistently over eight years to reinforce a strong brand story.

This entry was originally posted on September 5, 2008 on the old Brandstory blog.

Today at the Brains of Fire blog, Robbin posted a short movie well worth six minutes of your day. It perfectly illustrates that how you tell your story is just as important as having a story to tell. Watch for yourself:

A version of this entry was originally posted on December 26, 2006 at the old Brandstory blog (link available for a limited time).

Last week, Martin Conroy, the man famous for writing the “two young men” letter for The Wall Street Journal, passed away (New York Times article). The letter was used by The Journal continuously for twenty-eight years and is revered by writers in direct response advertising for its creativity and success. It is the longest running direct response letter ever used, and has been called the most successful advertisement ever run. I still have a copy of the letter in my swipe file.

Why was this letter so successful? Because it tells a compelling, relevant story. And it sold subscriptions. Millions of them. One source says it was directly responsible for bringing in more than a billion dollars.

The letter reads:

On a beautiful late spring afternoon, twenty-five years ago, two young men graduated from the same college. They were very much alike, these two young men. Both had been better than average students, both were personable and both – as young college graduates are – were filled with ambitious dreams for the future.

Recently, these men returned to their college for their 25th reunion.

They were still very much alike. Both were happily married. Both had three children. And both, it turned out, had gone to work for the same Midwestern manufacturing company after graduation, and were still there.

But there was a difference. One of the men was manager of a small department of that company. The other was its president.

What Made The Difference?

Have you ever wondered, as I have, what makes this kind of difference in people’s lives? It isn’t a native intelligence or talent or dedication. It isn’t that one person wants success and the other doesn’t.

The difference lies in what each person knows and how he or she makes use of that knowledge.

And that is why I am writing to you and to people like you about The Wall Street Journal. For that is the whole purpose of The Journal: to give its readers knowledge—knowledge that they can use in business.

It was so successful, that it has been copied numerous times (never as well-done as the original).

The Times quotes Direct Response Guru, Alan Rosenspan, who uses the letter in his seminars, saying: “I ask people to read out loud the first paragraph of the letter. And what’s astonishing to me is that they never stop at the first paragraph. They keep on reading. And I tell them: ‘You have just proven why this letter’s so powerful. It’s a story.’ ”

Sifting through the stack of junk mail (credit card solicitations, non-profit fund raisers, cable subscription offers) on my desk this morning, I wish there were more writers like Martin Conroy who believed in telling a relevant story. Sadly, they are, very literally, a dying breed.

This entry was originally posted on March 9, 2006 at the old Brandstory blog (link available for a limited time). I’ve made a couple of minor revisions to the original.

John Moore over at Brand Autopsy has written about Jack Trout’s recent article in Forbes which discusses the value of Word of Mouth as a marketing tool. Jack takes a decidedly old-school approach and gets taken to task for it by John, George Silverman, Olivier Blanchard, and others. I won’t deconstruct the article, others have done that already. But I do think that Jack’s column represents a fundamental misunderstanding about the way brand stories are created and shared.

Jack is a big believer in Macro-stories. These are the stories brand managers tell about their brands. They use company controlled marketing tactics like advertising, corporate websites, catalogs, direct mail, and so on to tell the story. Macro-stories are vital to communicating brand positioning and brand values to a huge number of potential and current customers. These are the stories a company can (to some extent) control. They are generally expensive to produce and distribute. And they are often ignored or distrusted by jaded consumers.

Where Jack misses the boat is Micro-stories. These are the stories consumers tell about the brands they love and hate. These are stories that are influenced by Macro-stories, but also include other elements like experience and satisfaction. They are created on an individual basis, one by one. These are stories that companies can only influence, not control.

Take the restaurant chain, Olive Garden, for example. Their brand story (reflected in their television advertising) is one about (large, loving) families gathering for great food, great conversation, and the kind of hospitality you would have received from your Italian grandmother. The company controls the advertising, from where it is placed, to how it is filmed, from the food that is shared, to the attractive people shown eating it. This is the Macro-story.

The Micro-story may or may not reflect this experience played out on TV. If a customer has to wait to be seated, is served cold food, receives poor service, or has mistakes made on his bill, her Micro-story isn’t likely to share many characteristics of the Macro-story. On the other hand, if this customer’s experience is similar (within reason) to the brand story told on the advertisements, her Micro-story will reflect the brand values the company wants to communicate. When she shares her experience, she won’t be talking about the handsome Italian family from the television ads, she’ll talk about her experience at the restaurant.

In other words, once a brand is experienced, the experience, not the advertising or positioning, is the biggest part of the brand story for that consumer. If the experience is compelling, she will share her Micro-story with others at work, at church, at the club, on her blog, and so on. It used to be enough to share the Macro-story and hope for the best, but times have changed.

The biggest difference, of course, is that consumers have so many more ways to share their Micro-stories now that they did just a few years ago. And, thanks to brand experiences disconnected from Macro-stories, more and more consumers no longer believe the brand stories companies “sell” them with traditional advertising. Jack (and hundreds others like him) may always favor the tactics they can control. But their clients will suffer as the power of Micro-stories grows.

That’s why word of mouth matters.