All I Want For Christmas

As I wrote in my most recent post, this down-time over Christmas is proving hugely productive in terms of some of the ideas it's prompting for work on my return to the office in early January.

(I know I should be switching off completely but it's extraordinary the thoughts that come unbidden to my head when I'm settling down to tackle the second layer in the chocolate box).

Watching the response of my children to Santa's presents in particular has sharply reminded me of the crucial difference between 'need' and 'want'. As marketers, we're often tempted to ask what our customer needs in much the same way as the conscientious parent wants what's best for the child. The child (and the customer) are quick to recognise how this lofty attitude leaves everyone feeling beyond reproach and it's not uncommon for the child to tell us what they 'need' (when they're really describing what they 'want'): 'I need those expensive trainers so that I can play well for the team'.

U2's Bono nails it when he sings: You say you'll give me a treasure just to look upon it...a river in a time of dryness...when all I want is you.

Meanwhile, there's a clever Bank of Ireland ad that suggests that the bank knows how to play this game too with students looking for a loan.

It's terribly important, of course, that we make offer to others with a keen eye on what they need but we mustn't forget that the market makes its choices based on what it wants rather than on what it needs. Naturally, when both 'want' and 'need' stand happily together, we have the makings of a marriage made in a blessed space but when the two fall out, it's 'want' that usually comes out ahead in any post-nuptial settlement.

As both marketers and parents, our first instinct is to go to the more rational place occupied by 'need' and this can only be a good thing in a world where 'want' is more inclined to the one-night stand than it is to the long-term relationship. But we'll find ourselves jilted fairly sharply if we don't ensure that 'want' is catered for too.

It's not only the parent knows the loneliness of the hollow victory that's achieved when 'need' wins out over 'want'.

Busman's Holiday

Since I pulled on my brand-coloured glasses some years ago, there's a danger that this time of year is something of a busman's holiday for me. This really is the season when brand is king and as gifts are exchanged and unwrapped, it's rare to see one emerge from under the tree without a famous label of one kind or another attached.

In some ways, this proliferation of brands makes choosing easier rather than more difficult. My own children are able to construct a list for Santa that's frightening in its detail (my own childhood bulletins seem hopelessly vague by comparison) and it's now possible to do all the shopping for Christmas astride a search-engine with credit-card in hand.

One thing that hasn't changed though is the importance of the 'thoughtful' gift. My eldest was in tears yesterday because Santa hadn't brought him all that he'd asked for (in fact, Santa and Mrs. Claus had exercised considerable discretion in choosing what they thought were more suitable presents for a boy of his age) and he agonised whether his own behaviour hadn't been up to scratch in the lead-up to the holidays.

Over the years, many of the family tiffs I've witnessed (or been a party to) have revolved around someone (not always a child) reproaching the bearer of gifts for choosing something unsuitable. There's even a seasonal ad that plays on the trials of choosing well for someone else.

Those of us on the receiving end seem to place extraordinary store on the capacity of the giver to choose something for us that matches our expectations and heaven help the one offering a gift that somehow misses the target. On the other hand, when we get it right we seem to prompt a gratitude that seems just as out of proportion.

Sometimes, it's clearly not just the thought that counts.

White Christmas?

Like most of us, I'm just emerging from the belly of the Christmas and New Year celebrations and find myself inclined to wonder just what we were up to exactly over the last few weeks. I don't wish to jump on a bandwagon to mourn the passing of the Christian meaning of Christmas but it's difficult to see that there's anything left at all of any significance in our public celebration of the ancient feast. Whatever about what goes on behind closed doors, it felt to me that on the streets and in the shopping malls we were simply going through the motions.

Just before Christmas, Declan Kiberd in his Irish Times column suggested that "what was most romantic in Christianity was its openness to the stranger". Some of that romance, which I remember myself from happy Christmas returns to Ireland when I lived on the far side of the world, certainly seems to be missing now as we retreat to our castles to celebrate with a chosen few. Despite Shane McGowan's 'Fairytale of New York" topping a number of 'Best of' polls over the holidays, there is little evidence to suggest that we have turned to the strangers in our own streets to make them welcome at Christmas.

If the experience of other immigrant cities is anything to go by, it strikes me that we might look to the 'strangers in a strange land' among us when we next celebrate Christmas and enter into a spirit which is much older than the token feasting and exchange of gifts of the past few weeks.

Bah humbug..? What do you think?