 hen "reality" TV rules the airwaves, advertising claims are routinely inflated, and every transaction is an "experience" (due in large part to Jim Gilmore and Joe Pine's first book, "The Experience Economy: Work Is Theatre & Every Business a Stage"), people - more than ever - are digging deep to find kernels of truth, shreds of genuine emotion, and any signs of legitimate sentiment. That elusive authenticity, Gilmore says, is table stakes for today's marketers. EXHIBITOR spoke with Gilmore about this authenticity imperative, and what it means for exhibit marketing today.
EXHIBITOR Magazine: How do you define "authenticity"?
Jim Gilmore: Authenticity is the new quality - it's today's dominant consumer sensibility. In the past, criteria such as quality, cost, and supply were the dominant standards that most consumers used when contemplating a purchase. When our economy was still primarily agrarian, supply was the dominant purchasing criteria, and buyers made simple decisions based on availability. As our economy evolved into a manufacturing-driven one, cost became the dominant factor and consumer choices hinged on affordability. In our most recent economic shift to a service economy, quality became the prevailing mantra, and buyers purchased based primarily on performance.
Today, we've moved to a new era that is increasingly about experiences. That's when authenticity emerges as a criterion. People buy based on experience, and they want that experience to represent something meaningful to them personally. Think about the stores you choose. There are probably a few that make you think, "I wouldn't be caught dead in there." In a business-to-business situation, it becomes, "I want to do business with a company that offers things I like." So when someone is buying based on authenticity, he or she is buying based on conformity to self-image.
EM: So how does the desire for authenticity apply to exhibit design and in-booth experiences?
JG: If we think of authenticity as today's prevailing sensibility, then it absolutely applies to exhibiting. These days, most experienced exhibit professionals have the details down to run an efficient program. All the logistics have been figured out. So it comes back to self-image: Does your exhibit show that you stand for something your customers and prospects can believe in? Can they see themselves stepping across that aisle-carpet threshold to participate with you at the show, and into the future?
Having a variety of phony-feeling or sensationalist elements doesn't connect with attendees. Think about your presentations or demos. Are you going to use professional performers, say Blue Man Group, that - although a fascinating group that smashes performing conventions - doesn't represent what your company stands for? Will there be some hired gun giving a canned presentation, with insufficient time devoted to interaction? That's not real. Honest, open exchanges with attendee input that may bring up difficult questions - that's authenticity.
EM: But "conformity to self-image" is such a personal criterion. How do you build that appeal into an exhibit meant for a large trade show, with potentially thousands of booth visitors?
JG: Part of authenticity is the added fuel to the trend toward mass customization. The aim of mass customization, especially relevant here for larger companies, is to create unique value while leveraging economies of scale. If you have a mass-customization capability where you can produce individually unique experiences for customers, and if you give that capability directly to the customer, it can't help but conform to their self-image.
Building or scaling customization for an exhibit program can be tricky, but it is certainly possible. At a recent trade show, for example, I saw an exhibitor invite attendees to customize their entire in-booth experience: the sights, the sounds, and even the smells by manipulating those elements at presentation kiosks. At the end of the personalized tour, each attendee created his or her own snack from a bunch of ingredients made available in the booth. It was a completely customized and authentic experience for each individual attendee.
This flies in the face of customer "segments," which many marketers still focus on. But any company that aggregates customers into segments is treating customers as an average - not as unique markets of one. If your exhibit does not allow individual customization in some way, no matter how small, you're still trying to appeal to many segments or tastes. All that does is spawn watered-down variety, which is not equal to customization.
EM: In your book, you describe five genres of authenticity. What kinds of cues can exhibit marketers take from your thoughts about each genre?
JG: The first, "natural authenticity," means thinking about the environment or setting in which the trade show takes place, and how you design and stage your exhibit experience. What are the materials you're going to use? Will you set up outdoors or indoors? Do you need to stick to the typical conventions about what constitutes an "exhibit?" Even using the natural language of real people in graphics and other materials, vs. brochure-speak, appeals to natural authenticity. Convey a straightforward sense of who you are, and what people will experience in your booth.
"Original authenticity" is the most straightforward genre - and also the most difficult to achieve. Original authenticity makes an appeal by being first of a kind. Take all the conventions of normal exhibiting and smash them. I recently saw an exhibitor invite attendees to actually help it create its booth at the trade show. The exhibit arrived with a blank mural, and attendees were asked to help paint it. It was an authentic, personal demonstration of what working with that company would be like - true collaboration. Or go one step farther. Bring raw materials to the site and actually have attendees help you build the stand, creating something completely new, assuming you can manage it in the face of labor regulations. That's original authenticity.
The third genre, "exceptional authenticity," means doing things as if each participant is the only one who exists. What are the touches that will convey a true sense of personal caring? For example, at a conference at which I speak, a meeting planner sends me a preview copy of the brochure to review. She includes a personal cover note indicating the exact pages I need to review. Even if they have 100 speakers, this makes me feel like I'm the only one. If you treat prospects and booth visitors exceptionally on the front end, you'll get an exceptional return on the back end, after the show.
How can you personalize the exhibit environment in meaningful ways for each attendee? Some companies have gone so far as to create RFID-based programs that embed personal information about booth visitors in various presentation technologies, which are triggered when the attendee holding or wearing the tag walks by a kiosk with a hidden RFID scanner. But creating exceptional authenticity can be as simple as allowing each attendee personal time and attention from a staffer to ensure a relevant and useful booth visit, instead of the usual big-group presentation followed by generic goody-bag handout.
"Referential authenticity" draws its power by connecting to people, places, or events that we already perceive as real, such as historical moments in time or iconic ideas in human thought. Theming is inherently referential - but theming needs to be done well. Too many creative strategies for exhibits merely treat a show theme as a tagline, one that reflects very little of what actually transpires in the exhibit - or that reflects only a cheesy presentation that is more about being true to the theme than to the exhibitor's brand personality. Yet exhibits are rich in opportunity to have a great, inspiring theme as an organizing principle that defines everything you do.
Finally, "influential authenticity" makes an appeal by seeking to benefit some greater good. I don't think exhibitors are doing rich enough thinking in this regard. Consider both individual and collective aspirations of your visitors. Individually, for example, you might ask visitors to contribute a thought to a virtual brainstorming session. In the case of the exhibitor I mentioned earlier that allowed visitors to paint an in-booth mural, attendees knew that the mural they painted while in the booth would ultimately be donated, along with a financial contribution, to a local children's charity that needed to spruce up a group room.
Look for ways to truly participate in a cause that has resonance in your field. If you're a paper company, ask prospects before the show to bring a book to donate to a local literacy initiative. If you're a window manufacturer, invite a local Habitat for Humanity representative to spend a day in the booth to teach visitors how to install windows - a skill they can bring back to a local Habitat project. Saying that you'll contribute $2 to some cause for every attendee who visits your booth is simply too easy; people no longer trust it. They want to actively participate in the cause.
EM: It seems that the process of making something seem authentic actually requires a great deal of prep work. Isn't this kind of manufactured authenticity at odds with the whole concept in the first place?
JG: That's the rub: How do you achieve true authenticity without it seeming contrived? But it is contrived. Admitting that to yourself is a giant step in gaining perception of authenticity. Authenticity is not an inherent trait of any commercial offering; it has to be earned. So ask yourself: Which of the five genres do we think will appeal to our customers? Are some of those at odds with our heritage and who we are? How do we take steps to appeal as real? In the book, we call it "rendering commerce less commercial."
It can be done. Be real in how you talk about your products in the booth. Instead of having some executive or professional presenter speak, invite customers and employees to present.
EM: How can an exhibit marketer begin to craft an authentic identity for an exhibiting program?
JG: First, become a student of your company's exhibiting heritage. Look for archival information about the first trade shows your company ever attended and study past booth designs, graphics content, and any strategic information you can uncover. What were the motivations and design criteria? Derive inspiration from what has unfolded since, and restore elements that have been lost over time.
Second, study the Real/Fake Matrix in our book. Is your exhibit design and strategy consistent with who you are? Does it live up to everything you're saying about it, both internally and with customers? We live in a socially networked world, and people talk. Inauthentic positioning and overstated claims are exposed very rapidly for what they are.
Finally, look at the five genres of authenticity, and draw from them to help render your exhibit experiences more real. The right mix will vary based on who you are. For example, if you have a low budget, then be low budget. What are those items, like perhaps a celebrity presenter, you're spending money on that are actually causing you to be viewed as inauthentic? Stop. If you're doing anything that is at odds with who you are, save yourself the money. Bottom line: Start by asking where you are most fake, and take aim at rendering it real. e
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hese days, most experienced exhibit professionals have the details down to run an efficient program. All the logistics have been figured out. So it comes back to self-image: Does your exhibit show that you stand for something your customers and prospects can believe in?
s your exhibit design and strategy consistent with who you are? Does it live up to everything you're saying about it? We live in a socially networked world, and people talk. Inauthentic positioning and overstated claims are exposed very rapidly for what they are.
