Current Topics Report

As the eldest of four siblings, I have always been interested in the effects of birth order. My younger sister and brothers are nineteen, thirteen, and twelve years old, respectively. Despite our shared genetics and virtually identical upbringings, Pamela, Joseph, Samuel, and I all have unique, and often contrasting, interests, personalities, and mental processes. Life at our house was chaotic; my family was late to almost everything, and I rarely ever had time alone, much less peace and quiet. At the same time, though, I feel like my childhood was also overflowing with laughter, love, and joy. And even as a twenty-two year old, my greatest source of happiness is my large family.

While growing up, I was fortunate enough to have two very close guy friends who also came from four children households. Since elementary school, we have been sharing our frustrations, as well as all of our hilarious anecdotes ,with each other, as very few of our peers understood what it was like to grow up with three siblings. When I came to UT, I met another friend, also male, who empathized with me. In the past three years, the four of us have had many discussions concerning the dynamics of our families.

Not surprisingly, we have discovered striking similarities between each of our siblings. The oldest is usually the most conservative and least interesting of the bunch, well-liked for adhering to social norms. The second is the over achiever and parent pleaser, having waited their entire lives to be in the spotlight. The third child is the brooding rebel who prefers solitude, often the “odd man out” of the four. The fourth is the stereotypical baby of the family, a sweet but self-indulging free spirit, craving, and usually earning, parental attention.

I know there have been a myriad of birth order studies done in the past. In October 2007, Time published an article, “The Power of Birth Order,” which cites various findings from around the world that support the important effect of birth order on humans’ perceptions and life circumstances. Jeffrey Kluger, its author, asserts that “firstborns score especially well on the dimension of temperament known as conscientiousness- a sense of general responsibility and follow-through.” They are “generally smarter” and take less risks than their younger siblings. Meanwhile, “later-borns score higher on what’s known as agreeableness, or the simple ability to get along in the world.” They are “looser cannons, less educated and less strapping” but likelier to live more exciting lives. In fact, a psychology professor at Guilford College “revealed the overrepresentation of firstborns in Congress” found that the majority of picketers arrested at labor demonstrations “were later- or last-borns.”

In my Current Topics Report, I would like to explore the effects of birth order on American consumers. I want to see how the perceptions of the oldest, middle, and youngest children have influenced market segmentation, if at all. Obviously, birth order affects the way we think and what we do. So does it then, also, affect how we buy? Do I perceive products differently than my younger sister? Do companies market differently to youngest children than firstborns? What about only children? Also, does birth order affect an individual’s strategic experiential modules? Will we ever be able to unfold the mysteries known as middle children? After all, they are the hardest group to define because of their constantly changing role in the family.

These are all questions I hope to answer as part of the research process for my report. I am aware that birth order is a very subjective topic. While many studies have shown strong evidence of common tendencies in oldest, middle, and youngest children, there are many other factors influencing our lives that simply cannot be ignored.

Culture, race, income class, and religion, among others, play a huge role in our lives. Family background is also important. Single-parent households are sure to be different than two-parent households; as we know, divorce can have a tremendous impact on a child of any age. Family dysfunction, like domestic or substance abuse, causes disruptions of typical birth-order generalizations. Even the number of siblings we grew up with probably has a huge effect on the way we think and buy.

Even though my own experiences are the basis of my curiosity in this particular subject, I will try my best to remain objective. I was raised in a Protestant, Korean American household in College Station, Texas, by two Texas Exes who were married in 1985. I am aware that these factors make my family unique and that every other American family has their own unique qualities as well.

By the end of the semester, I hope to have a more “scientific” understanding of me and my siblings. As a marketing major, I am also interested in how our differences have crafted us into consumers with varying thought processes and behaviors.

The Converse Summer Ad Campaign

This past summer, much like every other Friday, the newest issue of Rolling Stone appeared in my mailbox. Unlike past issues, though, I was captivated by a pull-out, black and white advertisement for Converse on the second page, featuring 18 musicians standing side by side.

Immediately, I spotted Andrew VanWyngarden and Ben Goldwasser, also known as MGMT to music fans. I was excited that Converse had recruited this up and coming Brooklyn band for their new ad campaign. I also recognized about four or five of the other artists, but as a music enthusiast, I was curious about the 14 other artists in the ad. Who were they? Why didn’t I know who they were? And where did a nationally renowned brand get the idea to get them all together in one place? I then spent the next two hours on Google, trying to find the details of the ad campaign.

Through a press release, I learned that Converse had commissioned Pharrell Williams (N.E.R.D.), Julian Casablancas (The Strokes), and Santogold to collaborate on a song called “My Drive Thru,” which synergized three very different musical styles into a catchy, summer hit. The artists had complete freedom during the recording process, and the song had no mention of the brand or its products. Converse then framed their entire summer advertising campaign, “Three Artists, One Song” around the track. Not only did “My Drive Thru” provide the soundtrack for Converse’s commercials, but it could also be downloaded for free on converse.com. According to the company, the track was and became a music video. At one point, it became one of the most watched videos on MySpace; it currently has 1,668,966 views on YouTube.

For many reasons, I think this campaign was genius. But I was most impressed with Converse’s ability to segment and target a market that tries to disassociate themselves from all things commercial and corporate.

Converse chose eight markets to display their outdoor and transit advertising installations: New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, Portland, Austin, Seattle, Miami, and San Francisco. These eight areas, known for their thriving urban culture, are arguably the “hippest” cities in the country, constantly setting forth the trends in fashion and music for other Americans.

The artists featured in the campaign would only be recognized by a very small group of Americans. This group has not only heard of seemingly obscure bands like the Fiery Furnaces and Does It Offend You, Yeah?, but they also know what the members of these bands look like, which requires in-depth knowledge of underground music. To this target market, Bradford Cox of Deerhunter is a very distinguishable figure, and putting him on a huge poster on the wall of a subway station would immediately grab their attention. Converse crafted their adverting efforts around the behavioral profile of a young, music-obsessed individual living in a trendy urban area.

Converse also reaffirmed its position in the world of rock and roll, as well as its influence on the urban fashion scene. According to the Chief Marketing Officer, Converse, realizing that “music is central to the Converse brand,” launched the campaign to “further [activate its] commitment to being a catalyst to creativity.” Obviously, creativity is essential to a company in the fashion industry. However, by selecting these up and coming musicians to promote the brand, Converse acknowledges their creative ability and achievement, asserting the artists’ influence on the target market. Converse is literally promoting creativity.

Converse’s incorporation of music was so seamless. Making music the center of the campaign was believable; it felt natural. Plus, the faces of the brand were all people that legitimately fit into the Converse culture. Pharrell Williams would wear Chuck Taylors; in fact, I saw him wearing purple ones at ACL.

Essentially, Converse took a huge risk by centering an entire campaign around a song that had no mention of their brand or products. But by doing this, they solidified their brand’s reputation among a core group of young people who seem to stay ahead of cultural norms and in turn, have a remarkable influence on their peers. By abandoning traditional marketing strategies, Converse managed to appeal to Generation Y, a demographic known for its skepticism.

The Paradox of Choice

The Official Dogma of the Western World is completely true. America really does buy into the idea that in order to maximize American citizens’ welfare, we must maximize freedom by maximizing choice. Schwartz described a shopping trip in which he was looking for a new pair of jeans. I recently experienced something similar. I walked into Express and came across their three “fits”: Stella, Eva, and Mia. There were also a myriad of styles, ranging from Skinny Leg to Fit & Flare. Did I mention all of these styles came in cropped versions? Needless to say, I was overwhelmed, especially since the jeans I had previously purchased were the Zelda fit, which had been discontinued.

Personalization has become a huge part of the market; many consumers today are willing to spend significantly larger amounts of money and time on products that were, in essence, created by them and for them. Before, it was cool to have what everybody else had, whether it was a pair of Doc Martens or a Coach over the shoulder purse. Now, it’s cool to have something that no one else has.

Companies are capitalizing on this trend, often focusing on segments that are easily influenced, teens. Neutrogena recently launched SkinID, a website that asks a series of twenty questions that evaluate your skin type, current skin routine, and lifestyle. At the end of the evaluation, SkinID recommends a bundle of three products that best fit your needs. For example, my SkinID is 7, 40, 32, so I should purchase the corresponding cream cleanser mask, toner, and anti-acne treatment. NikeID is a similar program in which customers can basically build their own sneaker.

Despite the appeal of personalization, Schwartz argues that there is an inverse relationship between the number of available options and participation. Since we no longer rely on experts to make the choices for us, the shift of burden becomes more evident. We realize the potential consequences of a bad decision, which can lead to paralysis. I have definitely noticed this behavior in myself. Overall, I am an indecisive person. But in the past few years, I have become more analytical than ever before, struggling to make even simple decisions. I don’t even have “gut feelings” anymore. When faced with a decision, my mind becomes a blank. Then, anxiety kicks in. Even after carefully weighing my options and making an informed decision, I often feel uncomfortably unfulfilled, constantly wondering whether I made the right choice. It’s definitely true that that the more options they are, the higher our expectations become, thus increasing our chances of being disappointed.

The Austin City Limits Music Festival is known around the country as one of the biggest and best summer musical festivals nationwide. As a devoted fan of music, ACL weekend is the highlight of my year. However, this past year, I suffered from what I now know to be the paradox of choice. On September 26, I arrived at Zilker Park, schedule in hand. I had a list of “must-see” bands, but other than that, I was open to anything and everything. On the second day of the festival, I wanted to see five or six bands that were all playing within a two hour period…on different stages, of course. I knew there was no way that I could see all of the shows in their entirety. But instead of choosing one or two that I could thoroughly enjoy from a decent spot, I decided to go to 15-20 minutes of each set, traipsing all over Zilker Park. Afterward, I was sweaty, grumpy, and in complete regret. If only I had been given less options…

But who was to blame? Surely not the festival organizers. All they did was bring in 120 of the most talked about bands of the year for the masses to enjoy. Would I have been happier if there was only one stage and twenty bands on the entire ACL lineup? Of course not. I had no one to blame but myself. After all, I was the decision maker. I could have done better. Oh, the paradox of choice…