Thank you, everyone, for your positive comments and support for my writing! This week I am posting another short essay I wrote called 'Marketing’s Revenge: It’s creepy how those boots keep stalking me.' I’d love to know what you think!
Here is the essay:
‘I think a pair of boots is stalking me. Everywhere I look, often when I least expect it, there they are. It’s a little creepy. They look like the sexy, high-heeled red beauties I checked out online a few days ago. They seem to know I once looked at them fondly, but changed my mind, wisely opting for a more practical, weather-resistant, low-healed pair in black. And yet, the red boots persist. They are clearly not ready to be disappointed, perhaps jealous of the other boots, acting like a rejected lover. Honestly, it’s getting a little sad as they turn up everywhere, perennially hopeful, with pitiful reminders that they’re still available. They brazenly flash “Buy Now!” notices like an exhibitionist demanding attention. When this approach fails, they resort to discounting, trying to tempt me with better and better offers. They tease me by parading their alter ego in brown. In fact, the retailer they are in league with is eager for me to meet the rest of their boot family and friends; surely there is a pair I wouldn’t be able to resist.
The more intense this relentless pursuit, the more guilty I feel. Maybe it would be easier to just make up with them and complete my order. Maybe that would help us both get on with our lives.
I know, eventually, the red beauties will give up the fight, resigning themselves to the bottom drawer of my virtual fantasies. But in the meantime, the days spin into weeks, the battleground is shaped, and we size each other up to see whose will is stronger. A few days ago, in a weak moment, I found myself relenting, tempted to give in and place the order. That was when they started to play hard to get, retreating to the corner of the cyber-universe where they normally reside, along with all the other unconsummated online purchases. It made me pause and worry about how faithful they will be in a long-term relationship, so again I hesitated, until, like a panther sensing my confusion and indecision, today, they crept up and pounced again.
When the head-spinning couple of weeks were finally over, I was wrung out, emotionally drained, ready for a few days at the spa. Not somewhere local, perhaps more exotic, in Baden-Baden, or one of those places in the Czech Republic where I would be immersed in a traditional beer bath in an over-sized copper tub, then pampered and massaged until I begged for mercy. My fingers could hardly input website queries quickly enough as my excitement mounted and endless possibilities were revealed.
But then, the inevitable hangover, all the worse because I knew it was coming. While I paused to deliberate the various spa options, reputable international air carriers showed up online with tempting offers of discounts to European destinations. And emails arrived in my Inbox from large Canadian financial institutions, considerately enquiring about my health, or, more specifically, wondering if I might be requiring out-of-country health coverage.
I actually work in marketing, so I understand this relentless pursuit, the all-consuming need to efficiently match consumer demand with the availability of a product or service. I get it. But ever-improving technology and personal data collection have made this pursuit so efficient and pervasive it’s achieved a level of stealth worthy of the covert operations of an international spy agency immersed in a Cold War. It has given me cause for sober second thought; it never occurred to me that, one day, my website choices would be monitored, analyzed, and ruthlessly thrown back at me. Is this my just desserts? My reward for past marketing sins with the single-minded objective of increasing demand and worshipping at the altar of maximizing business profits? Purgatory?
When a certain, youth-oriented friends site launched a few years ago, we in marketing eagerly tried to find a way to monetize it. At first, the website resisted any advertising. But, inevitably, the lure proved too tempting, and now there are now so many messages that directly relate to my online activities, it feels like a constant menu of commercials interrupted by the occasional friend’s posting. In fact, where are the young people on this site? It feels like they’ve moved on, while the 50+ group (ie me and my friends) are still visiting and liking and following.
It all seemed so innocent a few years ago, before Big Data honed marketing strategy execution into razor-sharp precision further polished with dogged determination. When I first started working in marketing, our efforts were ham-fisted; we lived in hope that some of our carefully-crafted messages might possibly reach the consumer masses in our sights at the right time, place, and occasion. In fact, the running joke was that we knew half our advertising wasn’t reaching the intended audience, if only we could figure out which half. Those clumsy mass marketing campaigns were somewhat akin to trying to hit a fly with a hammer, if you’ll pardon the analogy. But never in our wildest profit-seeking dreams did it occur to us that it would come to this, the one-on-one targeted communication designed to disrupt purchase behaviour with messaging customized to individual interests and specifications. And if those messages ultimately disrupt said individual’s peace of mind, well, consider that as collateral damage. To all those innocent consumers who feel they’re being stalked, what can I say except, I’m sorry, and I feel your pain. Literally.
Okay, I’m glad I got that confession off my chest. But now I have a dilemma. I need to do some serious online shopping for an upcoming wedding. I’m ready with my list, and even though I know my search habits will come back to haunt me, I can’t resist. It’s just too tempting.’