Viral Marketing: We share what defines us

“Coke is not a virtue,” I explained.

It was one of those eye-opening moments for me. I had just read excerpts of Ben Franklin’s autobiography with my junior English students, and I could tell they were puzzled by his list of virtues. So I made it their homework. Choose ten virtues that guide their lives.

I was not prepared for so many of them to mistake consumer products and experiences for virtues.

In particular, I remember the sixteen year old who proudly announced one of his virtues to be “Coca-Cola.” I’m afraid I laughed at him. Not a shining moment for me as a teacher, but you can hardly blame me.

Coca-cola? A virtue? Where is this coming from?

I remembered this story today when I read Sean Tiner at Dan Roloff’s prompting. On his blog, Tiner asks, “Why do certain websites go viral?” I’m an editor for several online magazines, so this is a pretty important question to me. In addition to meeting the content needs as defined by each publication’s vision, audience, and context, I’m always hoping to publish nuggets that will be so insightful our readers will share them with others.

Then, something at the end of Tiner’s article really made me think:

There are academic journals full of quality content, but have less then a few thousand subscribers. Why? Because sharing the content with friends does not increase most reader’s perceived feelings about themselves. They are simply satisfied with reading the content and discussing it in small circles.

That gave me pause. What does it mean to make content that causes people to feel something about themselves when they read it, and something about themselves when they share it?

Somehow viral content becomes a marker for people’s identity, I guess. At least that is what Sean Tiner is suggesting. It feels like there is some truth there.

When I share something, I am not just saying, “I like this and you might as well.” I’m really saying, “This defines me. It will help you understand who I am.”

In fact, this is what viruses do to a cell. They enter into the core of the cell and interact with the identity of that cell, using the cell’s own DNA to replicate its viral RNA message. It’s scary to think of marketing in this way. At its root, viral marketing is attempting mess with people’s identity.

A successful message interacts with my identity in some subtle way that causes me to share it.

This is powerful stuff. And dangerous stuff. And I’m wondering what it looks like when someone pursues viral marekting with high integrity. Perhaps it’s time to turn to Joseph Pine on What consumers really want at Ted.com, posted this past January, recorded in 2004.

Here’s how I understand Joseph Pine.  Businesses (and by implication marketing messages and viral marketing campaigns) fall into four categories:

• Real Real — authentic messages of truth, expressed in an authentic manner.
• Real Fake — authentic messages of truth, expressed in an inauthentic manner.
• Fake Fake — false messages, expressed inauthentically.
• Fake Real — false messages, expressed in an authentic manner.

Real real is what spiritual leaders aim for. They have a message of authentic truth, and their challenge is to share this message in an authentic manner. (This is why aesthetics are so important!) In my opinion, this also gives me language to talk about the great failing of churches today. In our impatience, we take the authentic truth of the gospel, and reduce it to an easy evangelistic sales pitch that is essentially inauthentic and fake.

What about those other three options? Obviously, Real Real is the best. Just as obviously, Fake Fake messages are to be avoided. Real Fake messages are probably the worst–whether they come from soft drink companies or churches–because Real Fake messages betray themselves.

The problem is that most viral marketing starts with something fake. That means businesses and marketers have to aim for Fake Real as their best option. We have a product or message that isn’t evil, but it isn’t a timeless truth either. I love to drink Coke every now and then, but it isn’t a virtue. It is a soft drink. Disney World is not reality. Even its promised idealization of imagination is not reality. But the park is authentic to itself. It is Fake Real, and because it winks at us a little bit, we are okay with this.

But churches don’t even have to wink. We have a real message. All we have to do is share that message with authenticity.

Maybe authenticity is a little bit harder than we think? Maybe this is something we ought to take more seriously? Maybe we’re looking to the wrong models to help us learn how to share a message with authenticity? Maybe, as Makoto Fujimura suggested at Laity Lodge this week, too many of us don’t even know how to be authentic?

I’m beginning to believe great art and great design is the best way to be Real Real.