marginally subversive

Word of Mouth, Social Media, and Marketing Planning

We are inundated by the supposed strengths of social networks and the emergence of web2.0 technologies that facilitate participatory and 2way conversations.  Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, blogservices, and the like have all emerged as leaders in the area of social media.  Windows Live is not too far off – and Google’s services (e.g., Youtube) in themselves have social-media characteristics.

But there is one thing that we are missing in all these discussions:  Social networks have always been around.  It is just that digital technology has emphasized its importance and has forced marketers and planners such as ourselves to acknowledge its significance.

We’ve also tried to measure “Word of Mouth” as if it were something similar to TV, radio, press, digital, and advertising in general.  But there is one key difference:  WOM is the voice of the consumer.  It is a response that is elicited from their holistic experiences of the brand – from a brand’s advertising messages, marketing communications, and up to its delivery of its supposed promise.

True, it is in itself a medium: If I tell you that Coke is the best soft-drink in the world and that I cannot live without a Coke (aside: I can J), I have turned myself into a medium.

But Coke can’t ‘control’ me – as it can control its advertising on TV, presses, and even digital media.  The decision to speak of Coke – positively or negatively – resides with me, the consumer.

My 2cents’: Social media facilitates word-of-mouth.  And so do other media that in aggregate, create a differentiated brand experience.  You can – perhaps – plan, control, manage, measure and deploy social media plans.  But WOM is something else. 

As one of my colleagues once mentioned: “WOM is a result…”

I would add that it is an interesting, important, and critical medium/channel – but we still have a lot to learn about it.  But the most critical thing to keep in mind is: It is the consumers’ voice, not ours.  And hence, we do not own it.

in memoriam

My grandmother, Reginalda Candido-Valloyas, passed away on Sunday night.

She was 95; she died peacefully in her sleep.  She was a great woman who in spite of the challenges of the Japanese occupation dealt on our family, made sure that the family was well-taken care of.  She helped build not only a clan that saw the rise of entrepreneurs, thinkers, and social servants - she also made sure that we knew each other and were there for each other.

She will be greatly missed, specially by me.

She raised me up and insisted on picking me up to school even if I were already in Grade 3 because "I want to make sure you're safe".  I remember her waiting patiently as I took my piano lessons up to 5 or 6 in the evening and how she would tell me to constantly pray because "God always knows better than you".  Or "smuggling" non-cafeteria food over the gates because I hated cafeteria food on Mondays.

She believed in me - and that made all the difference.

She believed - in spite of not having mastered the piano nor any other musical instrument - that I was destined to be a great musician and pianist. 

She would sit beside the piano on her favorite rocking chairwhilst I learn Moonlight Sonata, Fur Elise, and the Flight of the Bumblebee (that she said was "horrible; change it..." [I wasn't sure if she was referring to either me changing my style or the piece itself;I decided to drop it, haha.).  She was the first to hear all my compositions and my playfulness on the piano - my first 'judge', my first 'critic', the first to say 'I like that - play it again" until I myself would be too tired of my own work. 

(I never learned how to put them in notes... they are probably gone - but hopefully, not from her memories).

She pushed me to the limit - believing that limits are nothing but concepts and beliefs.  She constantly asked, "So what are you going to do about it?  You're better than you think you are - so go look for a
solution."

When I got into fights in school, she would be the first to rush to the principal's office to complain and face the parents of the bullies - even if sometimes, it was my fault.  And if it were my fault, I would never hear the end of it.

She never, ever raised her hand nor her voice.  She would speak to me gently and rationally - treating me like an adult in spite of being a rebellious teenager. 

When I left the province to pursue my university degree in Manila, I know that she cried but she didn't show it.  She just said, that day, "Take care - and pray.  Do your best.  But you don't have to always win against others.  Just do your best."

And in the same breath, she said "I just can't believe you grown so fast."

The last time I went home - and when she has not yet succumbed to Alzheimer's - she said, "Don't forget your Nanay (Mom) and Tatay (Dad) no matter where you get to.  Don't forget your sisters and your

nephews.  Don't forget me."  I said yes and I promised her that I wouldn't. 

Then she said, "If I die, I am going to miss you all."

Well, I guess she misses our family. 

And we miss her, too. 

I miss her.  And oh my, how I miss her.

She's a good woman.  A great grandmother.  My inspiration.  My pillar.  The wind beneath my wings.  The woman who contributed so much of herself that I can be what I can be - even when I myself doubted so much of me.

She will always be remembered.

And in my heart, her name will always be there.

"Agyamanak, Mamang.  Haan ka nga pabayaan.  Maturog kan.  Haan kayo ag-worry.  We're going to be fine."

Death is nothing at all.  It does not count. 
I have only slipped away into the next room. 
Nothing has happened.  Everything remains exactly as it was. 
I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.  Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. 
Call me by the old familiar name.  Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.  Put no difference in your tone.  Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.  Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.  Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.  Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. 
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. 
Life means all that it ever meant.  It is the same as it ever was.  There is absolute and unbroken continuity. 
What is this death but a negligent accident?  Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. 

All is well.

Henry Scott Holland