topic: advertising

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Today I came home and noticed this package lying on the porch (I vaguely remembered having seen it for a few days now). Turned out it was a promotional campaign for Dunkin' Donuts, in aid of cancer research. And, oh, we'll sell you a free bagel.

And a free drink if you come in. In this nice sturdy plastic cup.

Only problem is, I didn't ask for a coffee cup!

So, in order for the Stefanie Spielman Cancer Research Fund to get $1, I have to buy 13 bagels from Dunkin' Donuts. No wait, it gets worse.

In order for me to buy 13 bagels so that the Stefanie Spielman Cancer Research Fund gets $1, Dunkin' Donut:
# pays for 1 coffee
# pays for the production of one coffee cup (for which there is no market demand)
# pays for the design & printing of a magazine-quality information sheet
# pays for the (non-reusable) plastic bag it all came in
# pays for people to bring this to my doorstep

In addition, I am forced to deal with junk I didn't ask for, and the planet is awarded one ugly and unwanted coffee cup that is too hard to destroy. Now I hate waste, so I'll try to recycle it. Which means that Dunkin' Donuts is forcing me to pay some of the costs of their marketing campaign. (And you, and your children, too - plastic takes forever to degrade).

By now I'm finding it hard to believe that the true unit cost of all this is less than a dollar, in which case more - probably much more - than a dollar was spent to increase the coffers of the cancer research fund by $1, and the coffers of Dunkin' Donuts by the profit from the sale of 13 bagels.

Outrageous. Things that Dunkin' Donuts could have done instead of this horror:
1. Advertised the promotion in-store
2. Offered a free coffee if you brought your own cup
3. Just given the Cancer Research Fund $1 multiplied by the campaign's estimated rate of conversion. And then have advertised the good deed.
4. Advertised it online (update: they did)

Instead, this comes off as a desperate attempt to get me to give my money to Dunkin' Donuts instead of a kind, charitable gesture. And one that does more harm to everyone than good.

Unfortunately, I don't know how to put dollar-values to each of the above costs. If you know how to investigate this further, please drop me a line. Also, there must have been some set of conditions under which this sounds like a good idea: if anyone can throw some light, I'd be much obliged.


Outside a "mall" in Abuja, Nigeria: a blackboard advertising real-estate for rent. Interested people can inquire at the GLO shop next to the sign.

As a marketing device, this is an example of cross-media communication that relies on several infrastructures to make it work. Discovery of this information relies on the architecture of the physical space: roads, sidewalks and the proximity to a public space to bring this information to potential buyers. Note the careful placement of the sign in the unpaved area next to the paved sidewalk, so as to keep it visible to both pedestrians and passing or stopped motorists.

The second infrastructure is the social network at the GLO shop (cellphone airtime shops are common social hubs in Nigeria). Delegating the job of answering queries about the ads to the shop relies on the fact that, as a social hub and a low-margin business that relies on volumes, the GLO shop is constantly manned to ensure that potential airtime buyers will always find someone at the shop. The constancy enables the side business of helping potential renters with information about the ads.

The third infrastructure is, of course, the cellular phone network. Note the cellphone number scrawled at the bottom of the board. Given the importance of mobile phones as a method of communication in this country, this is practically a bonafide calling card and authenticator of intent all rolled into one.

Targeted advertising? Take that, Google!

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