The Mission Paradox Blog

Quick points

Trisha was kind enough to respond to the Dynamic Pricing post.  You can read what she has to say in the comments section here

And speaking of response, tomorrow I'll be responding to a question left in the comments section of the Theatre Loop blog.  The question is about the lack of African American LORT Theatres in Chicago.  I'll deal with specific question, plus give some ideas on the keys to building an healthy arts organization of any type tomorrow.

The perils of dynamic pricing - Part 2

Looks like yesterday's discussion merits a follow up.  I've got two more reasons why we should approach dynamic pricing with caution:

1.  Creates too many choices - Most performing arts organization have too many pricing options as it is.  We have different prices based on day of the week, seat location, etc.  It's pretty well established what happens when we have too many choices.  It paralyzes us.  It causes us to default to the status quo.  Neither of this things are good for the performing arts.  I wonder if dynamic pricing will add another unecessary to the mix.

But that's just a small objection.  Here's my bigger one:

2.  Could create the wrong relationship with your audience - I touched on this yesterday but let me drill down a bit on it here.

As many have noted, the airline industry is the grandfather of this idea. 

Remember the last time you bought a plane ticket?  If you're anything like me it became a sort of game, you versus the airlines.  Your goal was to get the cheapest ticket possible.  The airlines implied goal was to get you to spend the most they could get.

So most of us have developed a fairly ruthless attitude toward the industry.  To save $50 we will switch dates, switch airlines, switch airports, whatever.

From the airlines perspectve, they can live with that because they are going to make a profit at whatever price we buy it at.  Plus flying is pretty much a necessity purchase if you need/want to travel long distances.

But imagine if  . . . after I had tangled with United Airline for the best price they sent me a letter informing me that the price of my ticket only covered part of their costs . . . and that I should really consider a donation to cover the rest of the expenses.

I'd laugh my ass off . . . because that's not the relationship we established.  Their pricing model looks out for their own best interest, thus I need to look out for mine.  I worry that overuse of the dynamic pricing model in the arts will create a similiar effect.

 

 

The perils of dynamic pricing

Over at 2am theatre Trisha wrote this post on the benefits of dynamic pricing that merits a response.

A quick primer:  This is how she defines dynamic pricing -

Under this model, you advertise your lowest regular adult price, with the phrase “Starts at $XX.” Then you make sure the lowest advertised price requires them to buy early, come to the least popular performance night and sit in the very visible but not very good seats right up front on the side.

If they want a better night, a better seat, or the chance to wait until the last minute, it will cost them more. And if you haven’t advertised your additional prices in advance, you can adjust these numbers on the fly, experimenting until you find the right price breaks for this audience for this particular show.

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About 2 years ago dynamic pricing became the big idea.  I can remember sitting in a conference session and hearing a presenter brag about how he got this idea from the airline industry.

The airline industry.

Think about that for a second.

The airline industry is probably one of the most disliked industries in America.  There are like 2 profitable airlines and the rest are one step away from Chapter 11.

*This* is where we want to get our ideas?

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I understand the concept of dynamic pricing and I understand why its so attractive.  The performing arts are expensive, donations and other forms of contributed revenue are on the slide, so there is a certain logic to finding the ideal price/demand ratio.

But it worries me a bit when people talk about pricing models that could easily add another $10-$15 to a ticket with such . . . enthusiasm.  Particularly when many of us work in nonprofit arts organizations.

The question isn't whether you can use dynamic pricing.  Of course you can.  The question is SHOULD you use dynamic pricing and that strikes me as a much more complex conversation that raises difficult questions:

What message are we sending to the public when we do that sort of thing?

Could dynamic pricing undercut the "case for support" that many nonprofits use to solicit contributed income?

How does your audience change when you put dynamic pricing into place?

The whole concept just feels like a mixed message to me.  On one hand we are determined not to let someone pay $1 less for a ticket then the ratio says they should.

On the other hand we are community organizations that depend on generosity and goodwill to make our way.

Again, I understand the reasons for dynamic pricing.  I'm not some kid standing outside the circle throwing spitballs.  I've devoted my career to helping artists generate more revenue from their art.  But dynamic pricing seems like ones of those things that could easily slide off the rails and turn an organization into something they never intended on becoming.

I've heard advocates of dynamic pricing say things like:

"Nobody is going to notice the difference."

"It's just a few extra dollars."

"If they can pay, they should pay."

And I'm pretty sure the people saying that didn't come into the field hoping that one day those sorts of words would be coming out their mouths.

So I'm going to suggest that you be VERY cautious when using dynamic pricing and that you really consider the long term implications.  If you look at it carefully and decide it's right for you then knock yourself out.

Just be sure you're doing the right thing . . . and not just the easy thing.

Doing the wrong job

It's so easy to think that our job is filling seats, or making financial goals. 

That's not the job.

Our job is to advocate for our audience.  The responsibility we have as marketing leaders is to be their voice.

Many of the struggles we have in the professional, noncommercial, arts comes from the fact that we have dropped the ball on doing our real job.

We've fallen in love with bullsh*t marketing tactics and gimmicks and allowed the voice of our audience (both the one we have and the one we want) to drift further and further away from the center.

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"My job as Chief Marketing Officer (for Kodak) is to create tension everywhere I go."

-  Jeffery Hayzlett

The tension that people like Jeffery create comes from never letting the people who sign his paycheck forget that:

1.  There is an audience out there

2.  They are talking and telling you what they need

3.  If you don't listen and respond to them you are in serious trouble

That's our job.  To listen.  To respond.  Not just to create f*ckin' ads.  We are supposed to use marketing to create meaningful messages and challenge the status quo.

Period.

To me that's the dividing line between true marketing professionals and useless hacks.  A true professional has (at least once, and probably many times) said or done something that made people in power uncomfortable.

A true marketing professionals understand that he or she was hired to be an advocate.  To never, ever, let the voice of the audience fade into silence.

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I'll tell you a story:

At my day job we will probably have a good year in terms of overall ticket sales.  At the beginning of the year I was given a number to hit and we should get there. 

That's a good thing.  It reflect positively on my team's ability and I'm proud that we were a part of ensuring the group's overall financial stability.

But numbers come and go.  There's always another one.

While I we were hitting those numbers I spent 10 weeks working with a group of very smart people to do extensive research on our audience. 

I'm now in the process of presenting those results, creating recommendations for change and trying to get at least a few of those changes done in the real world.

That's my actual job.  Building a case for meaningful, audience centered, change.  That the sort of thing that will provide value long after I'm gone.

But we rarely talk about long term value these days.  I go to arts marketing conferences and far too many conversations seems to be about which tool we can use to squeeze another dollar out of somebody. 

We treat selling art like we are selling airplane seats and then wonder why people aren't "emotionally engaged" with us.

People deserve better then that from us.  The audiences we serve deserve better AND the organizations we work with deserve better.

Look, I'm a reasonable guy.  I know that dollars have to be made.  Songs must be downloaded.  Paintings must be bought.  Tickets must be sold.  I get it.

But if we use marketing to turn participating with art into nothing but a serious of transaction then we are sucking the life out the process. 

We might as well be selling insurance.

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If you're aware of the world at all you have learned that everything is marketing and everyone is involved in marketing.

So you're a marketing person, no matter what you're official title is.

If you want to do that job well, be the audience advocate. 

Be their voice inside of the organization and do what you can to make sure they are at the center of every crucial decision.

That's a legacy you can be proud of.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The local firewall

When you have a hit the marketing takes care of itself.  If the show is remarkable, the song finds the sweet spot, or the painting gets highlighted on TV, then you can just ride the momentum to the finish.

But what about when you miss?

Whose going to support you when the art is just OK, or even bad?  Those things happen.  Particularly when an artist is still learning his or her craft.

So what happens then?

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I've talked a lot about the importance of having a strong local following.  When clients come to see me for coaching my first piece of advice is to build relationships with community groups, business owners and other folks that live and work around the venues they perform in.

I stress this advice all the time and people often wonder why.

It's because those are the people most likely to support you when you miss.  Those are the people who are going to give you the time (and dollars) you need while you are developing artistic skills.

The alternative is to live a life of pretty severe highs and lows.  That's no fun and it burns people out.

Of course I understand that chatting up a local dry cleaner or bookstore owner isn't as sexy as having a pow wow with fellow artists.  It isn't the sort of thing that gets highlighted as a success factor.  But it's crucial.

You need some people who are going to have your back no matter what.  Being strong in a specific locale is a great way to acheive that goal.

 

Emotional frenzy

A hidden key to thriving in the professional arts is the ability to manage your emotions and the emotions of the people you work with.

This is a complex business we are in.  We are taking things that are - often by their very nature - outside of the mainstream and trying to connect it to people.  Doing that isn't easy and the strain can have a real toll on people.

When an artist works on a CD for months and only sells a few copies or downloads, that hurts.  It can damage the psyche.

When a performing art group is working in front of consistently small houses, or having difficulty raising money, it can cause that group to see the world as incredibly unfair and harsh.

And even when things are going well the grind of meeting high expectations can be tough.

So if you want to be a leader in the arts, I think you have to acknowledge the emotional challenges and learn how to manage the mental health of your team.

It means keeping people motivated.  It means making sure that they are aware of the big picture and their role in making it happen.

It means giving them a break when they need it . . . even if they insist they don't need one

(That's why at my day job I insist my team use as much vacation time as possible - refusing to take a break isn't an option)

It means setting goals that push people, but always looking for signs of burnout.

Take care of your people . . . and take care of yourself.

If you don't, this life can break you.

 

 

 

The Engagement Lie

"Adam, we really want to engage our audience."

During my younger days, I would accept this sort of statement without question.  Now at the wise old age of 33, I'm a bit more skeptical.

For some artists and arts organizations, "enaging the audience" is just a slang term for "find a way to get more cash out of them."

It's much easier to do effective marketing when you assume that your audience is as least as smart as you, if not smarter.

They recognize legit efforts to learn more about them and serve them better.  Of course, they may not recognize those things right away . . . so you need to keep plugging at it for a while.

On the other side, your audience has their BS meter turned up TO THE MAX.  They have gotten so used to groups that just want their money (but otherwise could not care less about them) that their impluse is to place almost everything (including your art) into that category.

So if you're interested in true audience engagement you have to do what engagement requires:

Listen to your audience.

Make changes based on what your audience is telling you.

That's what engagement is.  You use all the tools available to actively listen to folks and then you make appropriate changes.

Anything less is a lie.

 

 

 

"Later" will never come

If you can't listen to your audience now, when it's small, what makes you think you're going to listen to it when it grows.

If you can't work together as an artistic team (without a lot of pointless drama) when nobody is actually making a living from it . . . what makes you think that you'll be able to do it when paychecks are on the line?

If you can't plan for the long term and create a healthy culture now, what makes you think you're going to be able to do it when money and high expectations enter your world?

Don't fool yourself into believing that you'll do all those things when the amount of money/time/resources you have increases.

If you can't do it now, then you'll never be able to do it later.

 

What marketing can't do

Marketing can't promote what isn't there.

I know you probably think otherwise.  You see political movements and mega corporations invest  millions of dollars to make people believe that an inhumane Congressman is in fact humane . . . or make a bland, boring movie feel like something special.  Sometimes it actually works.

Sometimes, it doesn't. 

Either way, buying attention and spinning perception is really expensive.

Of course you don't have millions of dollars.  You don't have a team that is employed full time to spin straw into gold.

You (and I) can only market what we actually have. 

A guy like Gary Vaynerchuk doesn't "market" passion, he actually has it.  He doesn't "market" wine knowledge, he actually has it.

What marketing does for him (and you) (and me) is take what we have and highlight it.  Gary's Wine Library TV is the vehicle to demonstrate what he has.  It's the platform that he uses to launch himself into a particular audience.

What marketing does is take what's unique, passionate and remarkable about the work you do and shines the spotlight on it.  It makes sure that what's special about you and your art doesn't get buried in a waterfall of clutter.

But it can't take something that is fairly bland, a little boring, a little redundant or (and this is big) targeted at the entirely wrong audience and make it appear otherwise.

Unless you have millions of dollars . . . and sometimes not even then.

The first battle (and the hardest) is to have something worth spotlighting.  Then the bright light of marketing can have it's maximum impact.

The good news is that there are a lot of ways to achieve that.

I know artists who do work that people consider mediocre or even bad but find success because they have a remarkably strong relationship with their audience.

I know artists that produce art in remarkable venues.  They spend as much time marketing where the art is taking place as they do explaining what the art is.

I know artists that make remarkable choices.

Those are all viable paths and there are many others.

Just don't fool yourself into thinking that you can use marketing to make believe something that isn't true.

Talk to me

Over the next few months my day job will be doing something that we should do far more often, talk to our audience.

Real talking.  Over the phone and, to a lesser extent, in person.

No email surveys.  No Facebook posts.  Actual conversation about what we can do to better serve them.  I've managed and done this process a few times in the past.  Each and every time I learned something valuable.

The biggest thing I learn is how easy it is to lose sight of the audience. 

Most of the conversations in the arts are so damn insular.  Artist talking to artist.  Administrator to administrator.  If I wanted to I could go months without ever speaking to the people that fill the seats (and help pay my salary).

Don't let a calendar year go by with creating an opportunity to have real, meaningful conversation with a measurable portion of your audience.

Because if you lose sight of the audience, you've lost sight of the point.