i am constantly repeating the phrase that “we buy the brands and products that we feel express aspects of our identity,” and this applies to ideas as well. we buy into and espouse the ideas that express aspects of who we are. our “intuition” in that sense, could be seen not so much a kind of internal tuning fork dinging to the tone of the universe, but rather an insidiously partial filter which evaluates the validity of information based on its compliance with our ingrained personal predispositions. for marketers–an avocation that calls for a particular breed of identity, of course–it’s no doubt easy to latch on to the idea that a select few influential individuals wield the capacity to push trends over the tipping point simply by their involvement in the process. after all, considering what we do it’s pretty “intuitive” for us, isn’t it?

from the fastcompany article:

Marketing has always relied heavily on instinct and intuition. Admen like to believe they’re creative geniuses, gifted at truffling out social trends (which is why, they hasten to point out, they’re irreplaceable). Joe Pilotta, research VP for a firm called Big Research, suspects marketers cling to their belief in Influentials partly because they’re lazy. They love the idea of needing to reach only a small group of people to “tip” a product, he says with a laugh. Plus, it strokes their egos: “Think about it. You’re saying, ‘I am in control–I am the biggest influencer, because I am going to influence the influencers!’ It’s an arrogance that only the corporate world could enjoy.”

which certainly makes ME wonder to what extent what we know–or believe we know–about the nature of how marketing is supposed to work is actually based on the the egos of CMOs as opposed to on actual social theory. how about you?

see, i think all of coolhunting is a ridiculous waste of time. there is no universal “cool” that exists out of context, and while i do believe strongly that marketers themselves are NEVER the demo, i also think that all of us are subject to the context of the cultures or communities of which we are a part. translation: cool matters not because it’s “cool” but because–and only if–it’s culturally relevant. and while relevance sounds a lot less sexy than its mistaken-identity doppelganger, cool, it’s relevance that “trends” are really about.

Watts decided to put the whole idea to the test by building another Sims-like computer simulation. He programmed a group of 10,000 people, all governed by a few simple interpersonal rules. Each was able to communicate with anyone nearby. With every contact, each had a small probability of “infecting” another. And each person also paid attention to what was happening around him: If lots of other people were adopting a trend, he would be more likely to join, and vice versa. The “people” in the virtual society had varying amounts of sociability–some were more connected than others. Watts designated the top 10% most-connected as Influentials; they could affect four times as many people as the average Joe. In essence, it was a virtual society run–in a very crude fashion–according to the rules laid out by thinkers like Gladwell and Keller.

Watts set the test in motion by randomly picking one person as a trendsetter, then sat back to see if the trend would spread. He did so thousands of times in a row.

The results were deeply counterintuitive. The experiment did produce several hundred societywide infections. But in the large majority of cases, the cascade began with an average Joe (although in cases where an Influential touched off the trend, it spread much further). To stack the deck in favor of Influentials, Watts changed the simulation, making them 10 times more connected. Now they could infect 40 times more people than the average citizen (and again, when they kicked off a cascade, it was substantially larger). But the rank-and-file citizen was still far more likely to start a contagion.

Why didn’t the Influentials wield more power? With 40 times the reach of a normal person, why couldn’t they kick-start a trend every time? Watts believes this is because a trend’s success depends not on the person who starts it, but on how susceptible the society is overall to the trend–not how persuasive the early adopter is, but whether everyone else is easily persuaded. And in fact, when Watts tweaked his model to increase everyone’s odds of being infected, the number of trends skyrocketed.

i really like that phrase, so i’ll write it again: A trend’s success depends not on the person who starts it, but on how susceptible the society is overall to the trend–not how persuasive the early adopter is, but whether everyone else is easily persuaded.

we buy the brands, products, ideas, political candidates, etc., etc., we feel express aspects of our identities. a trend’s success depends not on how COOL it is, but on how effectively it manages to express a common-enough identity aspect. in other words, one way to look at the success of the trend that is “The Tipping Point” itself is that it has managed to express an identity aspect shared by a whole lot of marketers. not because it was cool, perhaps not even because it was RIGHT, but simply because it resonated with a particular–and particularly widespread–identity.

perhaps instead of building databases of “trend-spotters,” “brand evangelists,” “influencers” or whatever else those agencies that are so proud of themselves for getting to sit at the “cool kids” table want to call them, a more useful application of money would be to research the dynamics of our ability to BE influenced. and when i say “our” i mean all of us, marketers included. because, after all, being human helps in the process of figuring out how to communicate to other humans.

and maybe i read it wrong, but to me gladwell’s book wasn’t ever really about some people being blessed with the ability to start trends better than others, but rather some people being more curious, and thereby simply ending up in the way of more trends. consider how many more things an “early adopter” tries out that NEVER take off than the average person? they don’t necessarily help more stuff tip, they just try more shit out. what? were you expecting a different model? if so, maybe you should stop saying the word “viral” so much. that might aid a perspective shift:

Perhaps the problem with viral marketing is that the disease metaphor is misleading. Watts thinks trends are more like forest fires: There are thousands a year, but only a few become roaring monsters. That’s because in those rare situations, the landscape was ripe: sparse rain, dry woods, badly equipped fire departments. If these conditions exist, any old match will do. “And nobody,” Watts says wryly, “will go around talking about the exceptional properties of the spark that started the fire.”

so… “If influentials cannot tip a trend into existence–and if success in a networked society is quite random–what’s a poor marketer to do?” The article suggests that, “Since you can never know which person is going to spark the fire, you should aim the ad at as broad a market as possible–and not waste money chasing “important” people.” and while i agree with this, I think the “ultimate irony” proposed at the end of the article is misleading:

“If you really buy [Watts's research], the most effective way to pitch your idea is … mass marketing. And that is precisely what the wizards of Madison Avenue, presiding over our zillion-channel microniche market, have rejected as obsolete. “

cultural relevance–especially in a networked society–is not entirely as random as watts’s algorithmic computer simulations, and simply broadcasting a message doesn’t make it more relevant, but there is no special group of cultural gate-keepers that get to decide what’s going to be relevant and what’s not.

“I think that all books like The Tipping Point or articles by academics can ever do is uncover a little piece of the bigger picture, and one day–when we put all those pieces together–maybe we’ll have a shot at the truth.”
- Malcom Gladwell

it’s not cute, it’s not hip, it’s not clever, it just makes you sound antiquated. this is not the 90’s and there IS no more viral. it’s over. deal with it.

“and then we’ll just use a viral blahblahblahblahblah”

i’m sorry, what did you say?

“yes, i said, ‘and then we’ll just use that thing that’s gonna make all our stock go up.’”

uhhmm….

“i said, ‘and then we’ll just use the magic love potion that’ll make people fall in love.’”

wait… what?

“i said, ‘and then we’ll just use that thing that’s gonna do something we have no way of controlling, but i’m gonna say it like we can anyway.”

it sounds like nails dragging across some absurd chalkboard.

all there is is content, expression, and tools. there’s compelling, relevant content, content which says something about me, whether it’s my sense of humor, or my political leanings, or my musical taste, whatever. content that’s gonna express something about who i am to the people i share it with, and that i think they too will appreciate. and there are the tools to facilitate that sharing, (use your imagination…please).

that’s it.

there is no “viral” thing in that equation ANYWHERE. i know it would make your job or worldview or whatever easier if there was, but that’s no excuse. the sun does not revolve around the earth. deal with it.

viral is like the new clothes of the online marketing emperor.

do you even know what you’re saying when you say it?

cuz it doesn’t exist.

it’s actually gotten to the point now where–and i swear, i’m not making this up, but–ANY kind of online content that COULD, potentially, be shared, that is simply share-able is now being referred to as “viral.”

“we’ll just use a viral email,” “a viral widget,” “viral banner”–the entire internet is evidently just a giant contaminated pitri dish of “viral content.” the word is so absurdly misused that it’s completely lost any meaning whatsoever. its utterance isn’t even an incorrect usage anymore, it’s simply just gobbledygook nonsense.

like market forces and falling in love “viral” is a phenomenon. using the word like you think it refers to a type of content (i.e. “viral video”), or a marketing strategy (i.e. “making it go viral”) doesn’t give you cred. to anyone that’s actually willing to confront the inevitable complexity of what’s entailed in designing and encouraging what is essentially just effective word of mouth, saying “viral” just makes you sound out of touch and ridiculous!

so stop saying it.

working with so many music festivals i’ve come to see the pattern in their ticket sales to be a kind of concentrated tour through all the major factors involved in driving adoption.

like the type of excursion that shuttles travellers to all the major european cities in the course of 6 days, from the moment a pre-sale begins till the gates close a music festival’s on-sale period exposes a landscape of distinct adopter personas within the kind of condensed time-frame that could double for an academic experiment on diffusion dynamics. while the details vary from one type of music event to another, in general certain things hold true. a huge amount of tickets–often-times the vast majority–are sold late. yet most people attending a major music festival have known about it, and have actually been considering going for some time before finally making their decision. this despite the fact that a ticket at the end of the on-sale period is considerably more expensive than it is at the beginning, since tickets scale in price as lower-priced tiers sell out.

inevitably this raises the question: WHY are the vast majority of folks waiting till the ticket is at its most expensive to commit to making a purchase?

the answer to this is not only about the dynamics of adoption for music festivals, but sheds light on the factors that drive adoption in a much broader sense. a couple of months ago i wrote a post comparing various music festival websites and mentioned that:

essentially there are three things that a festival is selling:

1. the event lineup
2. the event brand
3. the event community

like toilet paper, tissues, and paper towels, they’re all made up of the same stuff, and to a certain degree serve an interchangeable function, but at the end of the day, you do buy each for different reasons.

to broaden the application of what i’m talking about, lets consider that every time i mention “the lineup” what i am essentially referring to is the “product.” features, design elements, utility, whatever. think of “the lineup” as the thing with the actual bar-code on it–unless you too happen to be in the business of selling tickets.

what that ticket is actually SELLING–the cumulative representation of lineup, brand, and community–is different at different stages throughout the course of an event’s on-sale period. the point at which someone buys a ticket (aka where on the adoption chart they fit in) tends to be a result of the relevance that that particular combination of lineup, brand, and community has for them. these three elements are distinct adoption-drivers whose impact and interplay it is essential to understand in order to develop an effective marketing strategy–whether for a music festival or anything else really.

1. EARLY ADOPTERS BUY ON BRAND

unlike selling tangible goods, where the product and brand are generally simultaneous and thus difficult to separate and examine independently, selling an “experience” makes it much easier. when we initially launched the pre-sale for the Do LaB’s Lightning in a Bottle music festival we did not announce a lineup.

with the “product” an unknown, and the community still solely theoretical (sure, you may know who’s LIKELY to go, but the first week of a pre-sale you’re not likely to know too many people that actually ARE going) the most overt selling point was inevitably the brand.

the do lab had been creating events for seven years at that point, establishing a reputation for consistently spectacular, jaw-dropping creations, and the people who bought tickets that first week before either the lineup or community of LIB was a viable element, bought on the basis of the identification they had with the brand.

that bold stuff is the common denominator that i believe drives early adopters in general. whether you’re nike coming out with a new type of shoe, or lexus with a new model of car, or mac with a new sort of i-something, the people at the very front of the line buy on the basis of the identification they feel with the brand.

the first tier of lowest-priced tickets was sold out before we announced the lineup, having gone to the do’s most ardent early supporters. i imagine to a lot of people reading this (due to the nature of this medium’s demo) the logic in that kind of arrangement is self-evident, however, because i have seen this group be treated with the most extreme disregard, i’m going to go off on a little tangent here.

the folks who would buy a ticket without even knowing who’s playing, in a more traditional marketing model have generally been regarded as the most easily conned. the cheapest date who evidently requires the least amount of wooing. in the do lab world however, and in a world of brands that actually care about their consumers, a world that is being more and more empowered by social media, that kind of take-the-money-and-run mentality is going to fly less and less.

early adopters buy on brand, and yours better be the kind of brand that understands the necessity of rewarding them for this devotion as opposed to taking advantage of them for it, otherwise you’re going to LOSE them.

2. EARLY MAJORITY BUYS ON BRAND + PRODUCT & DRIVES COMMUNITY

the conventional assumption has been that it is the early adopters who steer a product to eventual popularity, but as the prior article on late adopter strategy pointed out, that is not necessarily the case. i’m of the opinion that it is actually the early majority that is responsible for pushing adoption against gravity, up the slope of the s-curve. in the case of LIB, an easy way to define the early majority is everyone who bought a ticket from the point when the lineup was announced, up until two and a half months later when the online sales officially ended the night before doors opened.

in the marketing bible malcolm gladwell splits the burden of causing cultural epidemics to “tip” between three types of culprits: connectors, mavens, and salesmen. gladwell gives an example of one such a maven: a man who after getting taken to a new japanese restaurant by his daughter and liking the food, comes home and sends an email to all his acquaintances who live near the restaurant recommending that they check it out. mavens, i would say, are the folks that comprise the early majority in general, and they make or break “critical mass” for adoption by generating what is technically referred to as, uh…. buzz. if you understand the impact of this, you’ll do everything you can to give them the tools and the content they’re looking for to help them do just that.

3. LATE MAJORITY – BUYS ON COMMUNITY

the late majority of a music festival is likewise easy to identify: it’s all the people who bought tickets at the door. in the case of LIB07 this turned out to be approximately 2/3 of the total purchasers. since this was a weekend-long camping event, it’s not exactly the kind of thing that had a spur-of-the-moment appeal. pretty much all of the late majority had known about this festival for a while. they knew the lineup, they knew the brand, but did not make their purchase until the last minute. why?

they were waiting on the community aspect to build. for the late majority, it is the community–a factor that is nonexistent when the tickets are inexpensive–that makes the higher price of the ticket worth it. when the buzz gets loud enough is when the late majority starts to realize that they don’t want to miss out on getting to share an experience with all their friends. in the same way that brand functions as the major motivator for the early adopters, community fills that role for the late majority.

in the conversation that is going on right now about how to measure the success of social engagement, an interesting factor to throw into the equation is that the “late majority” gets the thing once all their friends have it and won’t shut up about it–and this applies to whether we’re talking about a ticket to a festival, a pair of sneakers, an mp3-player, whatever. the better a brand’s social engagement strategy (and this transcends simply online social engagement, by the way), the easier it is for the early majority to build that buzz. the “effectiveness” of social engagement can thus be seen as directly correlated to the size of a product’s “late majority” purchasers. (tho it sure don’t hurt the other categories none either).

in the end, it comes down to developing a strategy that addresses what is relevant to the different personas on the adoption curve (in the broadest sense: brand, product, and community), and likewise is then able to proactively anticipate and deliver on these elements in ways which will help expand the adoption to the next phase.

last week i caught the tail end of an npr bit about the nintendo wii which mentioned that the console was currently outselling both sony’s playstation and microsoft’s xbox combined. the explanation for this seems to be that because of its uniquely simple controller the wii is able to appeal to a much broader audience than the other more complicated consoles. the implications of that on the dynamics of adoption is what’s inspired this recent investigation on the subject.

about a year and a half ago i was busily dashing all over L.A. on a quest for sneakerheads. while scouring undefeated, kicks, sportieLA, kendo, greyone, and generally cruising melrose ave. like a freakin pimp (in the traditional sense of the word), i was actually on a black ops consumer insight mission. i was working with an agency that was preparing to pitch pony, and so we wanted to glean from these kicks connoisseurs info on the current state of shoedom. now, sneakerheads are folks with an average of like, oh…. say 80-180 pairs of sneakers (i don’t know if maybe you do, but i don’t think i own 180 pairs of anything), and i was on a quest to find these experts and offer them the opportunity to get to talk about their #1 favorite subject: shoez.

yet uniquely suited to aiding and abetting the process of marketing research with their undisputed ability to distill meaningful patterns out of that which to the layperson is just chaos, though they may be, these kinds of experts hanging out on the knuckles of the s-curve arm have a very obvious shortcoming. that very same expertise skews their particular perspective. these VERY early adopters, who get up while all the rest of us are still sleeping, typically represent a demographic whose expectations and predispositions are colored by the standards of what kathy sierra calls the “higher resolution experience,” an experience that by its very eliteness does not translate to the majority.

from sierra’s keynote speech at sxsw this year:

“For example, some of you may be going to the music festival [portion of sxsw]. There may be some of you who are going to get laid or for beer. Some of you may actually understand something about the kind of music, and you may have some deep appreciation for some aspects of the music. You’ll hear different notes; you’ll hear more notes; you’ll hear things the rest of us don’t hear. I’m not a music expert, but I have a little bit of experience with mixing boards, so it kinda sucks, because I’ll go to a concert, and I’ll be like, “Oh, if I could just get my hands on those faders”– so it’s a little bit of a higher-resolution experience for me.”

the funny thing is that only an expert would even TALK about the “higher resolution experience.” everyone else doesn’t have any clue that such a concept even exists or what the hell it means. so think about what that implies about the resonance of a campaign (or product) that stringently emphasizes the “higher resolution experience.” there is a whole population of people that aren’t simply “not going to get it,” but rather what they ARE going to get is the message that “this here is not for me.”

which brings us back to the subject of the wii.

before the wii, the video game industry had become mired in a sort of stagnation. newer consoles were coming out, but there was nothing actually new emerging at all (guitar-hero not withstanding for the moment). as each iteration seemed to only up the complexity (i.e “resolution”), of the same sort of staid video game experience, their appeal was becoming more and more narrowed.

from an article in TIME last may on the eve of the wii release:

“The one topic we’ve considered and debated at Nintendo for a very long time is, Why do people who don’t play video games not play them?” [Nintendo president Satoru] Iwata has been asking himself, and his employees, that question for the past five years. And what Iwata has noticed is something that most gamers have long ago forgotten: to nongamers, video games are really hard. Like hard as in homework.

not only were novice users turned off by the intimidating (read: not fun) learning curve, but this wasn’t so good even for the people who could see the hi-res stuff, as many hardcore gamers were getting bored by the substitution of complicatedness for innovativeness.

and then along comes the wii to breathe simple, accessible, fun, new life into the world of the video game console.

Nintendo has grasped [an] important notion that [has] eluded its competitors. Don’t listen to your customers. The hard-core gaming community is extremely vocal–they blog a lot–but if Nintendo kept listening to them, hard-core gamers would be the only audience it ever had. “[Wii] was unimaginable for them,” Iwata says. “And because it was unimaginable, they could not say that they wanted it. If you are simply listening to requests from the customer, you can satisfy their needs, but you can never surprise them.”

and you also can’t necessarily rely on them to show you how to appeal to new KINDS of customers. particularly, customers at a different point on the adoption curve. a year after that time article came out, advertising age reports that the wii’s popularity is “part of a growing phenomenon that’s overhauling the video-gaming industry…. Video gaming is beginning to transcend the solitary boy-in-the-basement stereotype with a new generation of gamers including women, older people and younger children who want to play in a more social atmosphere.” (like, who knew, right?)

by deliberately pursuing a strategy to appeal to the majority, nintendo not only managed to bypass the bottleneck at the left elbow of the gamer bell-curve, but, in fact, to actually expand the very scope of what is a “gamer” identity.

another great example of this is what lexus did in the process of developing the strategy for their certified pre-owned (CPO) car program. CPO cars offer an array of late model, low-mileage vehicles, passing or meeting stringent manufacturer’s inspections, and backed by manufacturers’ warranties.

initially the auto industry lumped CPO customers in with the used car buyers, until a whole lot of research revealed that CPO vehicles actually appeal to their own unique kind of luxury car consumer, a demo that exists in a distinct category between “new” and “used.”

from the book Using Market Research to Create Effective Advertising:
(das what the man said)

The auto industry approach to marketing CPO vehicles was completely discordant with the consumers’ real needs and shopping patterns…..

People interested in a CPO vehicle begin with a consideration of what brands and models are right for them. Status, image, and the more emotional elements of a car purchase are at play. Pricing and budgeting decisions, which drive the used-car buyers’ purchase process from the beginning, do not factor into the CPO car buyers’ process until much later.

These findings were critical in leading Lexus and Team-One to the conclusion that CPO buyers actually mirror new car buyers’ shopping patterns and behaviors, rather than used car ones.

much like nintendo’s strategy with the wii, by focusing on the particular needs of consumers that exist beyond the early adopters Lexus’s CPO strategy expanded not only their understanding of their own brand’s adoption, but the scope of the entire class of luxury car consumers.

an interesting thing to also mention here is that while the wii has gained huge popularity in the majority, it has likewise engaged the curiosity and the desire for something new and fresh from seasoned gamers. likewise the success of lexus’s CPO campaign is no doubt an added incentive to the new car purchasers’ in the sense of increased security about the car’s resale value.

rather than a strategy developed to appeal to early adopters with the expectation that it will eventually transcend to everyone else, these are two examples that represent an approach that appeals directly to groups situated further along the adoption curve. distinct and viable markets do indeed exist beyond the early adopter, and not every strategy can or needs to be designed to specifically suit that one first group. understanding the differing needs and tastes of consumers along the various stages of the adoption curve, and developing strategies to address these groups’ expectations in targeted, relevant ways is key.

ok, enough with the fun and games. heave a sigh of relief to not be breathing playa dust anymore, put away your white clothing, let’s get serious, and talk about marketing.

one of the things that i haven’t given too much attention here yet, but consider hugely significant in the development of any marketing strategy is the dynamics of trend diffusion–that is, the process(es) by which trends, products, and ideas spread, and become adopted by and across cultures/markets. as with everything else i do, my particular perspective on the workings of these processes is colored by the lens of identity. people buy those products and brands that they identify with in some fashion, and this likewise affects the point at which they buy them. my approach to diffusion then, is something akin to the scientific process of pouring the active ingredients of adoption patterns into the identity solution and seeing what poofs out.

various theories have been developed to explain how diffusion works. there’s the dancey sounding two-step flow model developed by paul lazarsfeld and elihu katz, in which mass media information is channeled through “opinion leaders” (step 1) to the “masses” (step 2). whether or not this was ever so simply the case outside of the catholic church deali-o, in the current cyclical context of the age of conversation it certainly is no longer. there’s also the politically reminiscent trickle-down effect which says that as products become more affordable they sell better, the coefficient of diffusion thereby being nothing more complicated than price point. as reaganomically limited in its scope of the overall situation as the theory’s name would imply.

in the 60’s everett rogers broke the adoption bell curve down into different types of adopter personas in his diffusion of innovation theory:

and a bit later on frank bass came along with a lot of terrifying math stuff that looks like this:

Where:

 is the rate of change of the installed base fraction

 is the installed base fraction

 is the ultimate market potential

 is the coefficient of innovation

 is the coefficient of imitation

Sales is the rate of change of installed base (i.e. adoption) multiplied by the ultimate market potential :

The time of peak sales :
The time of peak sales :
The time of peak sales :

but all he was really trying to do was name a subwoofer after himself, i.e. the bass diffusion model, which presents a relatively more nuanced perspective for understanding the adoption process:

the bass diffusion model at least reflects a deeper insight onto what’s going on in this messy process than what the other fellows had to offer with their minimalist s-curves and bell curves and whatnot, but there is one consistent problem with all these graphs, and it’s exactly what you’d expect the problem WOULD be with the creative output of mathematicians:

the words.

“laggards”? “imitators”? mathematicians can maybe claim social ineptness and get away with labelling people in this kind of tactlessly condescending way, but what excuse do marketers have? the implication in the labels for the different adoption categories is not only the assumption that consumers must be striving to catch up to the left side of the graph at all times, but leaves nothing to the imagination about how much respect the folks relegated to sitting on the “back of the bus” deserve.

these are the people we are counting on to BUY our shit at some point, and this is what we call them? see, it seems like it’d be easier if everyone could just be bulldozed leftwards as soon as possible, (where they will be treated as the cheap dat–wait, no errr– as the first-class citizens we want them to feel they are), but in reality i don’t think that’s true were it even possible. not only would early adopters have no way of distinguishing themselves (bye-bye prized adopter category), but if everyone was huddled over on the left, brands would not have the opportunity to recalibrate their strategy; it would just be a one-shot chance to succeed or, what’s more likely, fail.

since it may appear that we might actually NEED the right side of the curve to even out the stakes a bit, perhaps we ought to consider that there are benefits in being able to understand it better. in fact, instead of just blindly inflating the egos of the prodigal “early adopters,” like parents worrying about our kids’ “self-esteem,” there may be benefits in understanding the nature of what is actually going on along the entire curve in greater detail.

the first step is to acknowledge that we shouldn’t assume the various stages on the adoption bell curve are just phases people are going to grow out of or hoping to level up through. the second is that thinking of the categories as their own self-contained identity segments is useless.

think about someone you met relatively recently asking you what kind of music you like. unless it’s within several days of your birthday or christmas, that question is not actually strictly about sonic preferences. people can easily admit such things as “i like british indie rock” or “i like southern rap” or “i like dirty sexy glitchy breaks,” and because musical taste can often translate to much bigger things about a person’s lifestyle, aesthetic sensibilities, community, perhaps even their values, asking what kind of music someone likes is basically just a much more efficient–not to mention pallatable–way of asking them to explain some fundamental aspects of their fragile identity. music preference easily establishes a common language for particular kinds of consumer identities and therefore is a relatively useful way to define market segments.

thinking of an adoption category as a useful means for defining consumer identity unto itself is about as effective as using latin to communicate in modern-day europe–it might be related, but it will not actually get your message across.

there is such an enormous variety of factors that affect not only why someone (or a certain kind of someone, or certain groups of kinds of someones) would make a particular purchase at a particular point, but also why they’d make different purchase decisions at differing points in the diffusion timeline, that whether someone is an “early adopter” or a (eeuggh) “laggard” in itself, tells you practically NOTHING about their identity or how to communicate with them. a friend of mine got an iphone on the first day but still doesn’t have power windows in his car–does this make him an early adopter, or not?

there’s a lot more to say on this topic and i’m not going to bother shoving it all into one post. this one’s enough to set the scene for where the action’s headed, i think. the main point to take away–in case you got frightened by the scary math stuff, and haven’t bothered to read anything since then up till now–being:

suspending the value judgement from adoption categories, and instead developing a more nuanced understanding of their intricacies and functioning, and the particular needs of the individuals within them, will result in more effective strategy.