There is no line 

Modern ‘man’ has been on the planet for around 50,000 years.

In that time, the way our brains work hasn’t changed much. We now have clever ways to talk to each other and entertain ourselves. Yet the core challenge of communication has hardly changed since pre-history:

how to effectively catch someone’s attention.

It’s not that easy – because your brain is tuned to filter out unimportant inputs. You ‘safely’ ignore what doesn’t change. That’s how you don’t ‘hear’ the constant hum of the office aircon. But the quiet creak of a door?

Unexpectedness draws attention: it has survival value. Pre-historic man could sleep through a gale outside his cave, but wake with a start at the sound of a sabre-tooth tiger’s claws on the rock. But, for homo marketingtous, the issue of attention is also vital.

As Simon Herbert noted in 1971, being information-rich makes us attention-poor.

With new tools, techniques and channels for content, the solution remains resolutely old-fashioned. It’s not about ‘above-the-line vs below-the-line vs online’. Sure, it’s partly about the kinds of ideas that cut through. But, more than ever, the challenge is creating trust. Between those who wish to sell, persuade or crusade, and those who choose to pay attention.

Trust is built on your audience’s perception of the frequency and relevance with which you gain attention. And suddenly you notice – like a red berry in a black and white image – something surprising. Perhaps it’s a different way of thinking. Could it be an agency who, like you, realises there’s no dividing line between brand behaviour and brand value

Could it be that you need an agency that helps you break out of the old ‘silo-thinking’. The larger questions – what you say and how you say it –  precede channel choice (where you say it). So, welcome to the nonline world.

Above-the-line; below-the-line; online; what-line? A parable:

A bloke goes into a very nice, busy restaurant and orders a main course.

The waiter asks the customer if he would like a starter.

“Do you have any experience in starters?” asks the man.

“Why yes, indeed,” says the waiter. “We serve starters to many satisfied customers, every day.”

“Um, no thanks,” says the man. “I’ll just nip out while my main course is cooking and get something from a little place I know that specialises in starters.”

“As you wish, sir,” says the waiter. “And can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hmmm,” replies the man, his eye wandering from the wine list he’s been offered. “But do you have expertise in serving drinks?”

“Definitely. Would you like to consult our sommelier?” asks the waiter.

“No, I think I’ll just go over the road to that pub,” says the customer. “Booze – that’s all they do, you know.”

He’s offered dessert and yet decides to dash round to a local patisserie.

He’s offered coffee and but says he’s going to pop out to a cafe´.

At the end of the meal, as the waiter presents the bill, the customer pauses:

“You know, I’ve been thinking,’ says the customer. ‘Wouldn’t life be simpler and more enjoyable, if I let you create the whole meal? The courses would be designed to complement each other, with paired wines if I wanted. And it would be easier and probably cost less.”

And the waiter, looking round the crowded restaurant, says: “Really? Do you think that would catch on?”