Your brand is not your logo

It’s been said before, but it bears saying again: Your brand is not your logo. It’s not your color scheme, or your tagline, or even your principles or your market segments or your penetration. Your brand is the gut feeling regular people get when they think of your company.

This includes your customers, suppliers, partners, employees, investors, enemies, and general public. It is shaped by the way you interact with them, in every phone conversation, transaction, and problem escalation.

These are the only things that matter. The other stuff people normally call “branding” is just window dressing that clarifies and can enhance your brand value. But the real branding is done in your day-to-day operations, not in the marketing, PR or design department.

People love Amazon because you can get just about any piece of media or media equipment you want at the best price anywhere, and it’s easy and fast – despite how bad the logo and Web site look.

People love Netflix because it emancipated millions of us from video-store slavery with its free mailing system, easy online queues, and no late fees. Its “branding” people think of is nothing more than a reminder (in the form of a red envelope) of the joy of escaping from video store hell.

People love Macs because they don’t ask you to tell the computer when you connect a camera. It just knows. And they don’t make you hunt and search for drivers with every new printer or piece of software. They just install automatically. Compared with people’s traditional experiences, that’s a welcome relief. The fact that they’re prettier is just window dressing on that key benefit.

To really stand out, you need to deliver your product or service like no one has ever done before. It’s not enough to be a “leading provider of ___ solutions.” You need to change their expectations of the entire market.

Why do people love your company? Do they know? Do they have a reason? 

The Starbucks Effect on our perspective

I’ve been carrying on a discussion with a friend for the past couple of weeks about the vast difference in expectations of customer service and responsiveness between Europe and the U.S. Many of these differences are illustrated in this recent essay from Fast Company detailing the syndrome, called the Starbucks Effect.

It seems that as the U.S. influence of always-on, drive-through, cash-n-carry, super-size, express line commerce is spreading around the world. Whereas we can today cruise through the drive-up window at the closest Starbucks and wheel out 90 seconds later with a double tall extra hot whatever, in Europe the process of ordering a coffee is much different. If you ask for coffee, first of all, there aren’t any drive-up windows (you just can’t drive and sip when you’re careening 100 kmh through crowded streets). You can, however, expect to be ushered to a table, where a waiter will leisurely take your order and eventually bring you a small demi-tasse of black java. If you want a refill, you’ll need to flag him down. No need to hurry, it’s expected that you’ll take an hour to sip your brew and peacefully reflect on the morning, or the sunshine, or your place in the world.

But as our customer service expectations in the U.S. are continually elevated by Starbucks’ militaristic consistency and fanatic lifestyle-branding of the neighborhood coffee-stop, so too rise consumers’ expectations in the countries into which Starbucks empire expands. As Starbucks’ name for quality and consistency become known in other countries, I can’t help thinking many contrasts will present themselves. I don’t pretend to think Starbucks will win hearts and minds instantly.

But even while traditionalists of Europe scoff at the green siren’s efforts, there’s no debating that eventually the old-world paragons of service like Bewley’s Tea & Coffee of Dublin, or your favorite cafes in Paris and Rome may eventually be compared, literally side-by-side, with the bright-eyed smile of a green-aproned Starbucks “partner” who’s offering you a fresh doppio with methodical precision and a sense of urgency imported directly from Seattle. Always open, always fast, always consistent.

That will be an interesting day. I don’t know that our system has all the answers. I love the fast service and immediate satisfaction of the U.S. quick-serve model. But I wonder if what I need more is an actual coffee break and a few moments of that European contentment, instead of spinning out of Starbucks with my latte in 90 seconds like a kid at the fair exiting the tilt-a-whirl.

The Starbucks Effect on our perspective

I’ve been carrying on a discussion with a friend for the past couple of weeks about the vast difference in expectations of customer service and responsiveness between Europe and the U.S. Many of these differences are illustrated in this recent essay from Fast Company detailing the syndrome, called the Starbucks Effect.

It seems that as the U.S. influence of always-on, drive-through, cash-n-carry, super-size, express line commerce is spreading around the world. Whereas we can today cruise through the drive-up window at the closest Starbucks and wheel out 90 seconds later with a double tall extra hot whatever, in Europe the process of ordering a coffee is much different. If you ask for coffee, first of all, there aren’t any drive-up windows (you just can’t drive and sip when you’re careening 100 kmh through crowded streets). You can, however, expect to be ushered to a table, where a waiter will leisurely take your order and eventually bring you a small demi-tasse of black java. If you want a refill, you’ll need to flag him down. No need to hurry, it’s expected that you’ll take an hour to sip your brew and peacefully reflect on the morning, or the sunshine, or your place in the world.

But as our customer service expectations in the U.S. are continually elevated by Starbucks’ militaristic consistency and fanatic lifestyle-branding of the neighborhood coffee-stop, so too rise consumers’ expectations in the countries into which Starbucks empire expands. As Starbucks’ name for quality and consistency become known in other countries, I can’t help thinking many contrasts will present themselves. I don’t pretend to think Starbucks will win hearts and minds instantly.

But even while traditionalists of Europe scoff at the green siren’s efforts, there’s no debating that eventually the old-world paragons of service like Bewley’s Tea & Coffee of Dublin, or your favorite cafes in Paris and Rome may eventually be compared, literally side-by-side, with the bright-eyed smile of a green-aproned Starbucks “partner” who’s offering you a fresh doppio with methodical precision and a sense of urgency imported directly from Seattle. Always open, always fast, always consistent.

That will be an interesting day. I don’t know that our system has all the answers. I love the fast service and immediate satisfaction of the U.S. quick-serve model. But I wonder if what I need more is an actual coffee break and a few moments of that European contentment, instead of spinning out of Starbucks with my latte in 90 seconds like a kid at the fair exiting the tilt-a-whirl.