When this is all over, if it really ever is, a new species will emerge from the darkness and inhabit the earth.
What it does and looks like will depend on where it lives, but here are a few guesses. Hair right down to the knees, maybe. Guts down to the feet. Glass-smooth hands. An accumulated allergy to sourdough. Right-angled leg joints. A corkscrew-shaped right index finger. Technicolor livers. Rectangular eyes with a big red “N”- shaped iris.
There will be a rainbow plethora of regional and national variations, but one common trait. More space in our cerebral cortices will be given over to the real. And our immune systems will automatically fight horse-crap.
After all, every culture on earth has been dealt an almost biblical dose of good old-fashioned reality. Reality so hard and black and white that can’t be denied, disputed, argued with, mown down or even turned into political capital. Even though a few have tried.
What it’s really like to suffer. What it’s really like to do without. What making use of outside time really is. What human beings are really like. What bonding and giving really is. What, given the space, thought and time of day, humility, humanity, kindness, compassion and goodwill really are.
And consequently, what our life-requirements really are. For many, this has been a reality-check on what we really require to live, be content, even to enjoy ourselves.
So, for brands, reality could be once more the genuine article. With visible, puff-free benefits that consumers and society can actually witness. Tangible differences.
And for us, less experience metrics, key response motivators, emotional drivers, whatever they were. And back, praise whoever you believe in, to the good, wholesome, old-fashioned what’s-in-it-for-me.
Cue the reincarnation of the clear-cut proposition. The irrefutable way in.
Cue the lost art of good old-fashioned persuasion. Some people might think that, along with lion-taming, making accordion bellows, shaking hands and saying thank-you, it had vanished from view.
Cue stunningly, brilliantly, unquestionably, solid-as-a-brick-shithouse arguments as to why brand X is for you and you.
So, sound the trumpets. Light the fireworks. Bang the drums. And cue the artisan persuaders.
The ones who learned, through years of hard work, patience and listening, to create and craft eye-catching, mouth-watering, intriguing and irrefutable visual and verbal arguments. Honed to the minds of people who now know who they really are.
Fellow creatives of the old-school, this is the cue. And for those who never trained to creatively persuade, now’s the time.
See it as good practice. In the next few decades, a lot of people will need a lot of hard-core persuading on a load of issues.
Even bigger mothers than this one.
Have a good weekend, everyone.