When Art Kissed Science

Research is not as “objective” as many of its practitioners, and buyers, would like to believe. Certainly this holds true in terms of market research.  We construct complex statistical models, fret over the dreaded “leading question” and cloak ourselves in the guise of science, but in doing so we sometimes miss the bigger point – we’re here to discover, innovate and develop real insights.  Good research doesn’t exist to validate our worth by positioning ourselves as simple, detached observers of the rational. It isn’t about regurgitating facts (which are not the same things as insights). We often seem to forget that while we strive toward objectivity, the whole enterprise is subject to larger political, economic, and social forces. Paradigms dominate thought and research practices until new paradigms develop. The result is that many opportunities are lost because they simply don’t fit the accepted way of doing things. Hence our propensity for embracing rational, seemingly objective science and dismissing art.  But art often includes elements of commentary, irony and critique missing from “serious” research.  What if we step back and start to think about how they two can and should influence each other?

First, the arts can fill a critical role as an independent zone of research, of experimentation and of learning. Rather than focusing on standardization and outcomes, the focus is in the act of creating.  This is a significantly different way of thinking because the focus is on the interdependence of symbols and looking for new modes of expression that may well run counter to the hypothesis from which we work.  It is holistic and concerned less with constructing norms than it is with viewing norms from an angle, so to speak.

This isn’t to suggest throwing out using systematic investigative processes to uncover behavior and meaning.  It is suggesting that we broaden the definition of how we “know” what we know and expand the options both the researcher and the participant have in the field. Using painting or sculpting as a means of articulating an idea, practice or belief engages the participant with the concept in question rather than the researcher or question itself. The interaction is, at the beginning, focused on the interaction between person, concept and medium.  As the artwork unfolds, the researcher is in a position to develop new questions, comment on the ideas expressed and explore concepts that 1) might not normally be discussed or 2) might be too sensitive for the participant to normally address honestly.  By using art as a means of expression and exploration, both researcher and participant become part of a shared exchange rather than a negotiated one.

But art is more than free expression.  It isn’t as simple as putting clay or paint brush in hand. Several traditions of the arts uniquely equip participants and it’s helpful to construct assignments with these in mind:

  • Whimsy: Focusing on radical symbolism, the participant-artist is encouraged to incorporate criteria such as celebration, fantasy and wonder into mundane objects and services.
  • The Outcast Approach: Artistic traditions of iconoclasm allow the participant-artist to take up lines of inquiry and expression that are often devalued by others.
  • The Exalted: The positivist approach and valuing of social commentary means the participant-artist is likely to integrate cultural issues in their work that reflect broader concepts.
  • Steam Punk Wonder: Casting the participant-artist as outside utopian/dystopian discussion around technology and change, means the participant-artist can bring the scientific and technological possibilities to a wider expression unbound by “logical” constraints.

There are of course other approaches to how the stage is set, but the point is simple.  Artistic valuing of creativity and innovation means new perspectives and possibilities can be revealed in very evocative ways.  That leads to new ways of thinking about what we sell and how we sell it.

Second, because the results are something that requires depth and explanation of a symbolic nature, the artwork produced, it by definition communicates research findings in provocative ways that are often far more effective than a the traditional bar graph or interview snippet. The people we conduct research with approach messages, products and problems in ways quite different than those of the people who make and sell things. Artwork serves as a powerful tool in helping consumers and users articulate meaning in a way that businesses can’t ignore.

Of course there are the skeptics who often wonder what contribution artists, both internally and as research subjects, can make to serious research (funny the tables are rarely turned with the artist asking what an MBA or a research guru can contribute to the creative experience). It’s all too subjective, after all, and can’t be readily defined in metrics. But the truth is, art can augment research and its outcomes in numerous ways. First, and perhaps the most obvious, artwork produced by participants can define new questions while conducting the research. This leads to uncovering unorthodox interpretations of products and messages, articulating wide opportunities and perspectives.  Valuable lines of inquiry die from lack of support because they are not within favor of particular scientific disciplines. New technologies with fascinating potential are abandoned because they are judged not marketable.  I am worried that the invisible hand of the marketplace might not be so wise as many would like to believe. The judgments that make short term sense for stockholders do not make sense for the culture.

I am not suggesting that an objectivist approach be thrown out and that art and science should attempt to become on and the same. However, I am suggesting that the two need not be so separated from each other when we’re looking for insights and information. Research is, or can be, a creative act.  The more we separate the two, the less likely we are to make any unique contributions to a business.  Just as science strives toward objectivity, art cultivates metaphor, subjectivity and deviation from the rules that govern the day to day existence. The research and insights produced from this way of learning look decidedly different from the deliverables  produced by traditional researchers, but therein lies the advantage. The findings provoke and move audiences.

Halloween is Over and It’s a Damn Shame

Halloween is behind us and it’s a pity. Of course, there is the simple issue of any grand event coming to the end, but reflecting on the socio-cultural significances of Halloween I can’t help but think about it as a reflection of cultural transformation, even if it is a single night.

A few years back, an associate professor of human development and family studies at Penn State’s Delaware County Campus, noted that parents need to realize that scaring our kids isn’t necessarily a way to mitigate kids’ fears of death and other things frightening.  Rightfully, she contended that Halloween is a time when we expose kids to behavior that is not the norm and that children connect the holiday with death.  The argument goes that we, regardless of who “We” are, typically distance ourselves from death and shield children from it, but in this case, young children encounter their fears when they face decorations of skeletons and tombstones. This can be scarring. This, of course, is bad.  Or is it?  Is it even accurate?

First, we expose our children to death regularly.  What we shield our kids from is pollution associated with decay.  In the case of Halloween, we are presenting our children with a sanitized, safe form of death that has none of the associations with contamination.  Second, children are exposed to death when they play video games, tune in to the TV or deal with the loss of a grandparent.  We may try to lessen the pain or deflect the underlying causality, but death itself is indeed part of a child’s upbringing, though it may not be as overt as it is at Halloween.  I will concede that we expose our children to death less than we perhaps did in the past, when people worked the farm together and were accustomed to things like slaughter, but to assume children are shielded from death is fantasy. We’ve simply changed the medium.

And should we even be shielding kids in the first place?  We often work under the assumption that it is somehow our duty as parents to protect children from any and all discomfort, but there is nothing out there to prove that doing so benefits the child. Fear teaches, particularly when it is safe.  Discomfort teaches, particularly when it isn’t overwhelming.  Children are, I would contend, smarter than we often think.  To assume they can’t make the leap between the literal and the symbolic is a bit obtuse.  While Halloween teaches children about death, it also teaches them about the nature of symbolism, rules of reciprocity, a sense of self-reliance, creativity and a host of other positive elements of personhood.

As my oldest daughter walked from house to house with her friend from Egypt, getting treats from homes comprised of people from a wide range of nations (our neighborhood happens to have large south Asian and Middle Eastern populations) it struck me how important this holiday is, because it is so public and because it is wrapped up in a universal need to deflect the fear of death.  It is a holiday that encourages parents and kids of other cultures to join in the fun and feel like they are welcome and integral parts of the adopted culture.  It exposes the children and parents of the adoptive culture to people and worldviews they may not have otherwise interacted with.  The experience can be thought of as enculturation, the process by which a person learns the requirements of the culture by which he or she is surrounded, and acquiring values and behaviors that are appropriate or necessary in that culture.  This has often been conceived to be a unidimensional, zero-sum cultural conflict in which the minority’s culture is diminished by the dominant group’s culture, but it’s not that simple.  There is an exchange of sorts going on. There are a couple of ways a person learns a culture. Direct teaching of a culture is what happens when you don’t pay attention, mostly by the parents, when a person is told to do something because it is right and to not do something because it is bad. For example, when children ask for something, they are constantly asked “What do you say?” and the child is expected to remember to say “please.” A second conscious way a person learns a culture is to watch others around them and to emulate their behavior. But in doing so, they often alter elements of it and reshape the culture – culture isn’t fixed, after all, it is a matter of practice, negation and shared invention.

What this means is that Halloween becomes a way of learning and exchanging.  Day of the Dead decorations find new uses, costumes come to reflect the sensibilities of the minority population and new ways of defining and interacting with the world emerge.  And there are very real, very meaningful results.  Businesses alter their merchandise, retailers decorate differently and new modes of shopping arise.  People develop new interests and curiosity about their world.  So, yes, Halloween may indeed scare the children, but the benefits of being scared outweigh a night of belly aches and spooky dreams.

Staging Retail

Shopping is usually thought of in terms of work – procuring goods, meeting needs, etc. Shopping is seen as a function first and something that serves emotional and social needs second. But as incomes have grown, not just in North America but across much of the globe, access to goods has exploded and free time has increased.  And it isn’t just things we need for survival – brands, design, luxury have al begun to drive how and where people shop. Shopping has become an increasingly socio-cultural process that is used to define status, world view and a host of other things.  Granted, shopping has always been about these things to one degree or another, but in this postmodern world where we are increasingly defined by the things we own and the places we go, the intangible increasingly outweighs the tactile, the symbolic supplants the functional.  Shopping, as I’ve said before, is entertainment. Even in an unstable economy, the decision to buy is driven as much by value as it is by need (perceived and real). In fact, entertainment and a memorable in-store experience probably have more to do with a sale than the product or the ease with which people find it. Choice equates with enjoyment, turning shopping from labor to leisure.

As I have said in the past, entertainment is not the only way to look at shopping, but it does provide a different lens through which we can examine a retail space. Shopping becomes entertainment depending upon the function, need, and desire for the object being shopped. For example, shopping for bras can sometimes be a pain in the butt if it is “needed” for a “utilitarian function” (a “work bra”), but it can become entertainment if the bra is “desired” for other cultural functions. People can also use shopping at second hand stores as a form of entertainment if there is a piece of clothing that is “desired” (a cheap pair of designer jeans), yet if one “needs” to shop for work attire at second hand shops because of a limited budget, it can cease to be entertainment and fall into the world of “errand.”

However, even big box stores, seemingly devoid of emotional or cultural dimension are invariably about more than getting that 25 pound block of cheese.  As an example, a participant I worked with not long ago spent every Sunday from 11:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. at his local Coscto, even though the purchases he made “rarely added up to a car full of products,” or so he believed – in reality he spent quite a bit at Costco, quite happily in fact.  But he chose to think of himself as spending les than he did because Costco was a place of rich meaning to him, not a place of transactions.  And as we talked, it became evident that believing he spent less than he did was a way of diminishing the transactional element of the shopping trip. He used Costco as a destination. It was a cheap lunch for his kids, it was an inexpensive adventure for his children while he gave his wife a break from the kids and it was a place he could teach his children about the value of a good deal.  Costco became a setting for instilling certain cultural values in his offspring.  It was also a place where both he and his children could play (indeed, he referred to it frequently as a play ground). While this example may seem extreme, it is meant to convey a simple point: people use retail spaces in unexpected ways.  The more you understand what the retail space means beyond the obvious location of things, the more likely you are to create a repeat customer.

What this means for shopper marketing is that the best retail experiences, those with the highest degrees of loyalty and sales, are those that project a story and invite the shopper into the narrative. According to the Richard Ellis Group, 92% of retailers plan to increase store openings in 2010. More stores means more opportunity win customers. Or to lose them. Increasing sales revolves around more than getting people in the store, it involves getting them to think of the store as a destination and thinking of it as a “Place” rather than a “Space.” Place comes into existence when humans give meaning to a part of the larger, undifferentiated space. One of the most affective ways to do this is to incorporate people into an entertainment experience and directly involve them in the story.

Again, there are a host of ways to think about the retail environment beyond functionality, entertainment being one of many.  It just happens to be an approach I find very useful.  The point is to think about the space more broadly and consider dimensions that you may have overlooked in the past.  So what are some of those dimensions?

Language:

In the past, language emphasized the skill and mastery involved in shopping. There were very real, practical results stemming from skill as a home manager. With time, the primal need to “hunt” has changed. Hunting and production are no longer about survival, but about the challenge and the social capital it brings. Lines between work and leisure are blurred. Language used in advertising and inside the retail space needs to speak to the romanticized view of the hunt as much as it does the material benefits of the products. Rather than speaking about functional benefits, the focus needs to reflect on the social capital gained by the shopper and the storyline of the shopper’s life (or desired, projected life).

The Stage:

The store is indicative of a theater. Even without the direct associations with a specific story line a retail space should still conform to some very basic principles. Namely, escape, fantasy, and inclusion. The total experience speaks to cultural and psychological triggers of enjoyment and participation. People create memories within places if storylines develop and form personal connections. The stronger the connection, the more likely they are to frequent the space and to buy. A good retail space needs to be create a shared identity, connecting the company and the shopper by developing clear imagery and displays that create the sense that there is a narrative behind the facade.

Foster Social Roles:

When shopping is done with others, as a family or with a friend, it is as much about establishing social bonds and being an outing as it is about fulfilling specific needs. It has replaced the park, the lake, etc. Natural space is replaced by constructed space. Retail spaces that encourage people to interact both with each other and the space leads to a greater sense of calm and reinforces the roles people have adopted for that shopping excursion. For example, placing small sweets throughout a lingerie store (returning to our bra example) increases the sense of romanticism and allows people to “play” to the underlying storyline the shopper and her counterpart are seeking.