The typical product review has a happy ending.

By that, I mean the end of a review usually calls out one product as the best choice.

In spite of the “happily every after” - at least for one company - you don’t associate the product review genre with storytelling.

Instead, these articles strive to clinically attach a value to different features and functions with the objective of helping potential buyers make their decisions.

That’s why a recent review by David Pogue in The New York Times caught my attention.

Anyone who touches the consumer electronics space knows Pogue and his gift for humor. His comparison of Windows Vista to the Mac OS back in 2006 - “I’m going to prove that Microsoft did not steal ideas from Mac OS 10″ - remains a classic and must-watch video:

But it’s interesting to see his quest for levity play out in a print product review called “Big Sensor, Tiny Camera, Nice Results” (don’t think Pogue wrote the headline; perhaps a byproduct of the SEO jockeys).

The review goes old school with the lead ‘graph:

Centuries ago, a young boy in Japan was preparing for a long journey. “You will need much drinking water,” said his master. “Construct a barrel that will catch the rain.”

You can almost sense David Carradine flashing back to his Grasshopper days, an allusion that keeps as the story unwinds:

After a quick run to his local Pagoda Depot for supplies, the boy built a large barrel, open at the top. When it rained, the barrel filled quickly.

“Good,” said the master. “Now pack it up.”

“But master,” the boy protested. “This barrel is much too big and heavy to take on my journey — it might not even qualify as carry-on! I need a much smaller, lighter container!”

Nice turn of a phrase, “Pagoda Depot.”

Sensing that an allegory is taking shape:

“A wise observation,” said the master.

“And yet,” said the boy, “a smaller container means a smaller opening, and it won’t catch nearly as much rain.”

And now, the payoff with Pogue intersecting Grasshopper with today’s digital dilemma:

The master nodded again. “Excellent, my son,” he said. “Now you understand the trade-off between digital S.L.R. cameras and pocket cameras. The S.L.R. is big and heavy, but it has a huge sensor that collects much light; you can get sharp photos even at twilight. The pocket camera has a tiny sensor that’s blurry in low light, but at least you won’t slip a disk trying to carry it around.”

The rest of the review offers the obligatory compare and contrast of several cameras.

Of course, every story must have an end.

Naturally, Pogue ties back to the drinking water quandary:

In the end, the boy began to cross Japan with only a tiny water flask on his back.

The master was aghast. “But you will die of thirst, my son!”

The boy smiled as he continued walking. “I’m not too worried about it, old man. Technology has a way of making all things possible.

Right. There’s no way a Japanese boy is going to call Kwai Chang Caine an “old man.”

But the boy saying “please don’t worry master” doesn’t quite have the same verve.

Like all master storytellers, Pogue expects us to suspend belief.

I’m OK with this for a product review that shakes up the status quo. 

There’s no question that photos like the one above that accompanied a New York Times article on China’s surging demand for coal accentuate storytelling.

In some cases, we’re actually seeing storytelling revolve around visuals like the seafood charticle in WIRED Magazine.

I think The New York Times does a particularly good job in building their stories around a strong narrative and compelling photographs. At a time when the photo staffs of newspapers have been decimated (to be kind), The Times augments its skeleton crew with other photo sources.

The photo of the chap shoveling coal comes from the European Pressphoto Agency. It fits perfectly with the opening graph of the NYT story:

Even as China has set ambitious goals for itself in clean-energy production and reduction of global warming gases, the country’s surging demand for power from oil and coal has led to the largest six-month increase in the tonnage of human generated greenhouse gases ever by a single country.  

Furthermore, two more photos round out The New York Times’ story on the China energy challenge, both secured from Reuters.

What does this mean for communications professionals?

It behooves us to strengthen our stories with compelling photography or other visuals.

In fact, one could make an argument that internal staff cutbacks create even more opportunity for companies to use photography to make a case for their stories with the media. 

I spoke at the American Chamber of Commerce in Beijing on storytelling a couple weeks ago. The talk triggered interest from a Chinese publication which asked me two questions via e-mail: 

How does storytelling impact today’s traditional media as well as social media? How does storytelling benefit business executives and their respective companies? 

My answers follow.

The media has changed.

I know these four words smack of understatement, but bear with me.

It used to be that the media viewed its mission as to inform and in some cases educate. Today, thanks to the Internet commoditizing all types of information, including news, the media must also entertain as a means to rise above the noise level.

As a proof point, consider the following words that came from a website for journalists:

Don’t limit your inquiry, or your thinking, to the basics of journalism: Who, what, when, where, why, how. Think in terms of story elements: setting, character, plot, conflict, climax, resolution, dialogue, theme. 

This captures the essence of how journalism is striving for a greater entertainment quotient.

Public relations needs to align with this dynamic.

This means public relations professionals should be developing content that encapsulates the elements of storytelling, which in turn enables the journalists to write a narrative. Of course, the journalist doesn’t have 200+ pages to air out a narrative like a novel. But PR professionals can still offer the right pieces – access to executives, quantifying key events, anecdotes – that lend themselves to narrative in business and trade publications.

With that said, we’re proponents of applying the techniques of storytelling to all communications (not just media relations).

Three thoughts on these techniques -

First, communicate in conversational language. I don’t know why reasonable and interesting people put on a business suit and all of the sudden their language becomes stiff and boring language. Keep it conversational.

Also, you can create drama by simply showing the contrast between the old way and the new way. The way I explain this in storytelling workshops is the difference between “what was” and “what is.” The greater the difference, the greater the drama.

And third, the power of anecdotes brings life to any communication. More than entertain, an anecdote shows a certain realness in the communication. There’s a great line from Raymond Mar who’s a professor at York University in Toronto who has researched storytelling: 

Everyone has a natural detector for psychological realism. 

The use of anecdotes helps a communication get through that “natural detector.”

These same techniques absolutely apply to social media.

Look at how 90+ percent of LinkedIn invitations arrive:

So and so has indicated you are a person they’ve done business with at so and so company.

 

I’d like to add you to my professional network on LinkedIn. 

I don’t think anyone would confuse these words (template from LinkedIn) as compelling.

At the very least, people should take 60 seconds and personalize the LinkedIn invitation with conversational language. Again, this basic technique alone will cause your communication to stand out.

I’d like to end on this note.

People like it when companies have personalities. It makes them feel like there are actual people on the other side of the communication as opposed to a faceless machine.

This might seems obvious and simplistic.

Yet, you could make an argument that many companies actually put energy into activities that squeeze out their personalities so they come across as generic and blend into the background.

Because they’re communicating the same way the vast majority of companies communicate.

It makes no sense.

The vast majority of people have been programmed to think business is serious so their communication must be dry and boring and, yes, serious.

On the positive side, if you can create a personality, it literally becomes a differentiator in this sea of sameness … which is where storytelling comes in.

Storytelling can become a powerful tool in creating a company’s personality.

People tend to think of companies like Apple when it comes to distinctive personalities, but even little things can shape a personality for companies that don’t sell iPods and iPhones.

Here’s one quick example.

One of our clients called Bumptop was just bought by Google. Bumptop created a 3-D desktop operating system which is somewhat technical, but the company shrewdly developed its personality from the start by having fun with language and storytelling. Its website - which unfortunately is no longer live - showcased this attitude with sections like “Love for Bumtop” instead of using a traditional phrase like “Press Room.”

Now, most companies would be downright scared to use a word like “love,” which you rarely see in business communication. But this type of contrarian approach and belief in storytelling played a major role in differentiating Bumptop and building its brand in a relatively short period of time.

Given a choice, do you gravitate toward entertaining people or dull people?

The same holds true for companies; hence, the reason to embrace storytelling.

Back in 2008 I wrote it’s not enough that Warren Buffet has become one of the richest men in the world. He’s also a world-class storyteller. (If it makes you feel any better, at least he’s not handsome.)

Nowhere does this gift go on public display more than in his annual letter to shareholders.

It’s worth setting aside 30 minutes to absorb the 20 pages like a novella.

But I’ve cherry-picked the slices of narrative that I found particularly amusing, starting with Buffet’s philosophy:

Long ago, Charlie laid out his strongest ambition: “All I want to know is where I’m going to die, so I’ll never go there.” That bit of wisdom was inspired by Jacobi, the great Prussian mathematician, who counseled “Invert, always invert” as an aid to solving difficult problems. (I can report as well that this inversion approach works on a less lofty level: Sing a country song in reverse, and you will quickly recover your car, house and wife.)

He’s right.

I just tried this with a Merle Haggard tune and it works, a sad reminder that no matter how many times I played the Beatles song “I Am The Walrus” backwards, I could never make out “Paul is dead.”

This next one isn’t as entertaining but shows the power of conversational language:

We tend to let our many subsidiaries operate on their own, without our supervising and monitoring them to any degree. That means we are sometimes late in spotting management problems and that both operating and capital decisions are occasionally made with which Charlie and I would have disagreed had we been consulted. Most of our managers, however, use the independence we grant them magnificently, rewarding our confidence by maintaining an owner oriented attitude that is invaluable and too seldom found in huge organizations. We would rather suffer the visible costs of a few bad decisions than incur the many invisible costs that come from decisions made too slowly – or not at all – because of a stifling bureaucracy.

There’s no double-talk.

He explains his approach to management, acknowledging the periodic downside.

BTW, I defy you to find another shareholder letter that includes the word “magnificently.”

But quintessential Buffet occurs when he turns to self-deprecation as a mechanism to disarm:

And now a painful confession: Last year your chairman closed the book on a very expensive business fiasco entirely of his own making.

For many years I had struggled to think of side products that we could offer our millions of loyal GEICO customers. Unfortunately, I finally succeeded, coming up with a brilliant insight that we should market our own credit card. I reasoned that GEICO policyholders were likely to be good credit risks and, assuming we offered an attractive card, would likely favor us with their business. We got business all right – but of the wrong type.

Our pre-tax losses from credit-card operations came to about $6.3 million before I finally woke up. We then sold our $98 million portfolio of troubled receivables for 55¢ on the dollar, losing an additional $44 million.

GEICO’s managers, it should be emphasized, were never enthusiastic about my idea. They warned me that instead of getting the cream of GEICO’s customers we would get the – – – – – well, let’s call it the non-cream. I subtly indicated that I was older and wiser.

I was just older.

Forget the shareholders.

Imagine how this mea culpa played with Geico’s executives who were originally overruled. Something about seeing the big boss fall on his sword allows everyone to move on.

And I love the pacing of this narrative.

Deeper in the letter he discusses the over supply in the housing market:

There were three ways to cure this overhang: (1) blow up a lot of houses, a tactic similar to the destruction of autos that occurred with the “cash-for-clunkers” program; (2) speed up household formations by, say, encouraging teenagers to cohabitate, a program not likely to suffer from a lack of volunteers or; (3) reduce new housing starts to a number far below the rate of household formations.

The man has a sense of humor and he’s not afraid to use it, a trait that surfaces again in this ditty:

Naturally, our fellows caved in and agreed to this value-destroying deal. “We need to show that we are in the hunt. Besides, it’s only a small deal,” they said, as if only major harm to shareholders would have been a legitimate reason for holding back. Charlie’s reaction at the time: “Are we supposed to applaud because the dog that fouls our lawn is a Chihuahua rather than a Saint Bernard?”

Of course, the letter is peppered with one-line zingers like:

Charlie and I enjoy issuing Berkshire stock about as much as we relish prepping for a colonoscopy.

Even if you’re not a middle-aged man, you get the drift.

Stepping back, what allows the storytelling to come through?

First, Buffet is true to himself. To borrow from the social media world, he’s absolutely authentic which comes through in his narrative.

Plus, he writes with a conversational tone. He’s not trying to come off as the smartest guy in the room.

And finally, he uses an element in short supply in business, humor. I’m not talking Robin Williams nanu nanu humor but the type of that makes you crack a smile.

Note: I penned a guest post on this very same topic that ran on VentureBeat yesterday. In the home-turf version, I drop in large chunks of Buffett’s narrative so you can see how the words are strung together. I suppose this version also goes for an extra-cheap smile (laugh is too strong a word).

Michael Margolis originally penned this post for his online property called Get Storied. It offers a practical framework for applying storytelling techniques in the world of business. He also knows how to turn a phrase: “So while you might be convinced that you’re the Cat’s Meow, if others don’t believe that same story, there’s going to be a huge disconnect.” I appreciate Michael allowing us to republish the post.

Context + Perception = Value

Too often, people try to make the case for business storytelling, by pointing to examples of “who’s doing it”. That type of reductionist answer has always kind of bugged me. Since that only reflects what is, as opposed to what can be. I think we all need bigger frameworks for appreciating the business implications of storytelling. Especially in today’s evolving times. So here goes a simple formula to stir up the discussion: Context + Perception = Value. Three fundamental reasons why storytelling holds value to institutions.

1. Context

It’s the job of all leaders to paint the picture and frame the bigger conversation.We’re all feeling a little (or a lot) disoriented these days. The point of telling or shaping the larger story is to help people locate themselves. Especially in the midst of change. Obama did it well during his campaign, not so much during his first year in office. Context is king. It sets the stage and defines the parameters. What are we talking about here? People need to see and understand the landscape, before they can even fathom how to navigate. So context building starts with things like – Time, Space, Culture, Identity, and Motivation. Each of these dimensions are hard to describe unless you explore them through a narrative lens. Considering the following prompts:

• Where are we now? (present/reality)
• Where are we coming from? (past/history)
• Where are we going? (future/aspirations)
• What are the implications of our context? (meaning)
• Who are we and what defines us? (identity)
• What do we care about most? (motivations/values)
• What do we choose to believe? (beliefs/perceptions)
• Who do we consider part of our tribe/members/customers? (culture)

The best way to answer these questions and to communicate those answers in through storytelling-based process and techniques. If you want to know and understand your world – start telling stories about it. Watching today’s iPad announcement by Steve Jobs is a masterful example of context setting, setting the stage for why we need a third device beyond a phone and a laptop, and the implications of this technology on our lives.

2. Perception

So while you might be convinced that you’re the Cat’s Meow, if others don’t believe that same story, there’s going to be a huge disconnect. Sadly, there’s always some disconnect. That’s the reality of life, and anything that’s in flux. Especially in today’s age of reinvention. How you see yourself (usually an aspirational picture) is different than how others see you (a historical precedent). Just ask General Motors, Domino’s Pizza, or Amazon’s Kindle (since today’s iPad announcement). Things change, and they change fast. The only way to become more self-aware as a business or organization is through a narrative lens.

• What’s the story people are telling about us?
• How do we listen, gather, and learn from these stories?
• Why would they have formed that impression?
• What do we want to do about it?
• How do we shift the stories people tell about us?

3. Value

For the last two decades, just about every business school teaches Michael Porter’s framework for “value chains”. It’s a useful model for thinking about all the inputs and outputs of a business through the product development and sales cycle. Except more organizations today, are in the business of “intangibles” -  what you’re selling is a service, an experience, or an idea. Whether they are your customer, donor, or member – your audience is buying into the story of what your work means to them. If you want to keep them, you better understand their perception of your value.

How many businesses  understand their true value proposition? Most airlines don’t. Neither do most publishers, carmakers, or financial institutions. When it comes to smaller businesses, consultants, coaches, etc…the disconnect is often really huge. I recently ended two working relationships for this unfortunate reason. After deep reflection,  it wasn’t clear to me what the “value” proposition actually was. In each case, they were smart talented people. We were involved in all sorts of process and activities, and there was plenty of “progress” being made. Yet at the end of the day, I couldn’t articulate the exact value provided by these vendors. So I couldn’t rationalize my return on investment into a story that made sense to me. What was unique or special to them? When I asked each vendor this same question, guess what happened. They didn’t know how to convincingly answer the question themselves. So how do you compare?

• What is your unique value proposition?
• What do you offer that no one else does?
• How are you different from other alternatives?
• What distinguishes the experience of working with you?
• What makes you indispensable?

Regardless of how confident you might be about your “value proposition”, your success depends on how you tell that story — and whether others believe in that story.

In all fairness, I’m not perfect at this either. I’ve forever struggled with defining and shaping the story of my own work, and making it accessible and relatable to others. That’s why Get Storied evolved so rapidly over the past year, and why I’m creating more educational curriculum and programs. And trying to learn more directly from you. Is this formula (C+P=V) helpful? What about the framing questions? I welcome your feedback and comments.