WHAT TALK REALLY MEANS

Everyone’s into conversations these days … on Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, even the network-able LinkedIn. 

At least on the agency and client front, the latest dialogue is all about engaging consumers with the brand, creating occasions and ongoing events that encourage an exchange relationship.  Proponents point to real-time communications – on the Web (e.g., McDonald’s Our Food, Your Questions), through the Twitter-sphere (cf. Oreos celebrating lights-out or saluting different demographics) – in the same places we as consumers meet our friends and colleagues.  In short, brands are people too … in this anthropomorphic perspective.

Here comes our heresy:  Pardon us if we have a difficult time envisioning when, exactly, we’d talk with a brand.  Do we want them to advise us on our shopping habits, our love lives, the ways we conduct our business?  Is it important that we dub brands as our next best friends?  [Except for the times when we’re disappointed in service or need/want additional information.]  A brand is simply that:  an inanimate object that, often today, is given human attributes, emotions, and interests.  Most consumers, we hope, would know that their brand relationship is actually staffed by real people who work for a real corporation; every time we go to a Web site or email about an issue, an individual, not the brand, responds.  [Or usually does.  There are times … ]

What we want in an engagement with a brand is something of value.  It could be relevant information that helps us work smarter, better, faster.  Or an app that saves time and money or answers critical questions.  In other instances, it might be a way to express ourselves quickly, as in “likes” and “shares.”  And a split-second of laughter that might lighten our mood.  Even an unknown “something” that will, some day, add to our lives.

We talk every day, with our clients, our friends, our colleagues, our family.  Do we truly need to engage in that kind of talk with a brand?

BREAKING BREAD (not bad)

Retailers have re-discovered their mate:  Restaurants.  Until its meatball mess, Ikea was known for its café-home furnishings combo.  Walmart and Target, for their snacks-while-shopping lures.  Now, Tommy Bahama claims its recently introduced in-store eateries generate twice the sales per square foot of apparel.

Another duo follows:  News organizations and politicians (and anyone else who’s got a soapbox).  Today, frequent breakfasts with Paul or Larry or Bob, when combined with The Wall Street Journal or The Christian Science Monitor, have a certain panache and appeal.  Not to mention frequent business conversations and occasional deals.

Once upon a time, though, establishments like the late-great Marshall Field’s as well as Neiman Marcus built dining places inside.  The Walnut Room and Zodiac restaurant were, respectively, part of the experience.  Then, hours-long in-store shopping was the norm.  There were no cyber worlds, no flash sales.  It was a time to relax, to be with friends, reflect on the day, and, oh yes, buy what you needed as well as feed your selves.

The power of a meal to begin (and continue) relationships is one we all acknowledge.   Inside organizations, especially in buildings with cafeterias, many leaders do take the opportunity of a mid-day snack or lunch or break to sit and listen to colleagues and employees.    All good.

But why not more often, more off-the-cuff dialogues over a meal or a cuppa?   Sure, there’s always a tendency to clam up when a C-suite executive meanders in and sits at a table.  Or to resort to small talk.  Or to studiously avoid the table or make excuses about getting back to work.  Yet many workers are yearning for just that kind of connection, to understand leaders and their motivations.  Study after study shows a real need to personalize the workplace, to forget a relationship with their managers and executives

A bit of orchestration, at first, might be necessary.  Creating natural venues to have a conversation can be staged, first (especially around food!).   Later, more natural and impromptu opportunities occur as colleagues and coworkers and chiefs get to know each other. 

After all, it started with the Old and the New Testament:  Breaking bread is about the food and the fellowship. 

THE ART OF TALK

These days, conversation just might be the 2013 version of texting. 

Then, again, a second talk trend seems to contradict that. 

One positive we’ve noticed, personally and in the media:  Encouraging, even engaging all around the table in hearty dialogue during mealtimes. “The family that converses together, stays together” is how the adage might play out. And families and couples, from the Obamas to, yes, Joe the Plumber and his peers, tune up the conversations at dinner.  Some focus on more meaty subjects, like politics and the state of the green world.  Others, simply on sharing the day’s events.  There’s no right or wrong way, say proponents, to talk.  Just do it.  Minus the television, cell phones, video games, and other tech distractions.

Trend two:  Casual restaurants (Applebee’s, Chili’s, even P.F. Chang) are installing mini-screens at the tabletop, offering diners the options to order, play games, and pay.  And not communicate.  Quite a few of these pilots claim great success in driving more frequent table turns, increasing dessert orders, and helping determine if the kiosks will become more permanent profit centers.  Parent reactions are mixed; waiters, even more so.  In this not-so-giving economy, we get it:  It’s time to continue seeking additional sources of revenue. 

We as proponents of the art of talk aren’t thrilled with the advent of diningIT.  There are good and valid reasons for eating outside the home, whether it’s a choice of more Top Chef-like menus (sorry, Mom!) or simply a relaxing escape from daily cooking.  Inserting technology into the experience negates personalized service offered by wait-persons and eager-to-serve counter people and, most important, limits our human interactions.

We know it’s hard enough to get managers and employees to talk casually and meaningfully with each other about work that matters.  So advocating that anyone adopt another tech-y habit is akin to endorsing “no talk zones” … everywhere.  Or is it enough to endorse the art of dialogue, as does Robert Louis Stevenson?  “Talk is by far the most accessible of pleasures. It costs nothing in money, it is all profit, it completes our education, founds and fosters our friendships, and can be enjoyed at any age and in almost any state of health”?