Photo courtesy of www.mumfordandsons.com
I liked the song “Little Lion Man” by Mumford & Sons the moment I heard it.
But I didn’t download the entire album right away.
I went to iTunes, previewed a few tracks, and bought two more songs.
Over the course of a few weeks I listened to those songs and got to know the band a bit. I saw them one night on Austin City Limits and they rocked it.
Then I bought the rest of the album.
When their new album Babel came out last year, I downloaded the whole thing on day one.
Next, I’m hoping to catch them live.
My relationship with Mumford & Sons has progressed over the course of three years. It didn’t happen overnight. I didn’t hear “Little Lion Man” and immediately decide to own every song the band ever recorded.
That’s how social marketing works.
This weekend I experienced exactly the opposite. I went to the grocery store – a major national supermarket chain – and as I walked in I was handed a card by a gentleman at the front of the store. He explained that I could go to the kiosk, input the number on my card, and see if I won a prize… up to $500.
It seemed easy enough. I went to the kiosk and entered my number. The machine then prompted me for my birthdate. Ok… maybe they need that to validate the prize. So I gave them my birthdate.
Then it asked me for my address.
At that point I quit. I could see where this was going.
As I walked away, a store employee approached me and asked why I didn’t complete the process. I explained that their “process” violated the trust that existed in our relationship. I wasn’t prepared to give up that much personal information (yet) for the “chance” to win a prize.
But I stuck around to watch as others took part. Many walked away, like me, frustrated by the amount of information they were asking for.
The machine asked for your email address (okay), home address (really?), monthly grocery budget (c’mon!?!?), average monthly credit card balance (you’re joking, right?), followed by a survey about satisfaction with local grocery stores and banks (I’m not joking, sadly).
Or, as Seth and Amy would say… Really? Really supermarket? You think I’m going to tell you my outstanding Visa balance on our first date?
You think I’m some kind of social slut? Really?
And here’s the kicker. Once you filled out all of the information, they directed you to speak to an associate to find out if you had won a prize. That “associate” was a sales person, and it was his job to sell you on the benefits of signing up for the grocery store’s branded Mastercard.
It is amazing that in 2013 a major supermarket chain could fail so miserably at the whole social engagement process.
Ask your customer for as little information as possible on the first encounter. Be gentle, honest, and transparent.
As you build trust, and they see value in their relationship with you, you can ask for a little more.
As you gain more information about your customer, the need to ask these kinds of (stupid) questions diminishes, because my behavior should give you everything you need to know… and I’ve already given you enough information you need to monitor my behavior within our brand-to-customer relationship.
Social engagement takes time, like a relationship.
You need to get to first base before you have a hope in hell of eventually crossing home plate.
Hopefully our relationship is strong enough that I can ask you to click here to purchase a copy of Brand Like a Rock Star: Lessons From Rock ‘n’ Roll to Make Your Business Rich and Famous. You won’t regret it.
And if you’ve already read it, I would be extremely grateful for a review on Amazon… even if it isn’t a perfect five-star review. I appreciate the feedback regardless.