The action on the field is real. What about the college promos you see during halftime? You be the judge.
If you need an example of how things can expand to fill space, look no further than college football during bowl season.
ESPN needs live events to fill out its schedule. The bowls need teams. Colleges need money and want exposure.
… so we end up with…lots and lots of bowl games.
I watch many of the games, too. But I don’t just follow the action on the field. I also watch to see what schools are saying about themselves. You know what I mean: I’m talking about the college promos that pop up at halftime and during commercial breaks. And, sometimes, there’s quite a contrast between what’s happening on the field and what I see in those promos. How so?
A wonderful thing about sporting events is that the action is visible and real. A coach can’t tell you that his quarterback had “a fabulous game” if the QB fumbled three times and threw five interceptions. Likewise, a 55-yard run is exactly that. It can be measured and preserved on film. And, very importantly, it actually happened!
That’s not the case with all college promos. You don’t always know if what you’re watching is true–or even what it means. For example, one school says its honors college offers an “Ivy League-like experience.” I’m not sure what that means, exactly, but I do know two things for sure: 1) the school isn’t a member of The Ivy League (it’s a state university), and 2) the school wants us to believe that its honors college really is Ivy-like.
And perhaps it is. That’s the problem with self-proclaimed assertions. You never know which claims to believe and which claims are … well …. A college football powerhouse (a state university) used to refer to itself as “The Pinnacle of Higher Education” Not long ago, another state university had “Relentless Ambition” as its brand.
Let me be clear: I don’t have a problem with college marketing. It’s necessary and important, especially in today’s hyper-competitive environment.
It’s literally impossible for thousands of people to share the same characteristics, of course. So why is it done? Is it an act of arrogance? That’s an easy answer, but I’m sure it applies in some cases. There’s at least one other possibility, too, a possibility that I explored while reading Bryant Welch’s provocative book, State of Confusion: Political Manipulation and the Assault of the American Mind. Welch doesn’t write about colleges and branding, per se, but he speaks about an issue that I think applies–identity.
One of the important functions of branding is to make a school stand out in a crowded landscape, to give it a strong identity. What really separates Ohio from Ohio State? Florida from Florida State? The same dynamic applies to people. For many of us, collegiate affiliation is a critical aspect of our personal identities.
But what happens if your school is put down by others? What happens if you feel under attack and minimized? The message sent is clear: you and your school are “lesser than.”
Consider this personal story. Not long ago I was introduced to a person who is a graduate of an elite university. She asked me about my collegiate affiliation. I answered and she replied: “I feel sorry for you.”
With branding, it’s possible to flip that script. It’s done when a school makes a self-pronounced claim of its people being “extraordinary and exceptional.”
Does it work? It certainly can, especially when affiliates are sick and tired of being put down, of being viewed as inferior. A loudly positive college brand is a welcome alternative because it can convert negative emotions–such as anger, hate, even envy (Welch writes extensively about envy)–into a chest-thumping alternative. We’re great!
It can be intoxicating, too. I’ve witnessed affiliates repeat a brand in conversations and in writing (it happened to me yesterday as I was finishing this column). I’ve also seen affiliates break out in tears. Both responses are outcomes of what I call the psychodynamics of branding.
What’s going on? Welch describes the psychodynamics this way (interpretations are drawn from pp. 140-146).
First of all, the message source is important. The source needs to be valued and trusted. Schools are both. The next step is to create what Welch calls a reality sense. A reality sense is a portrait of reality: it is what is. A reality sense (in this context) embodies a comfort zone, too–a positive place–that can rid the landscape of negative, uncomfortable messages. (This positive message is what’s true, not the negative stuff.)
The next step is to merge words and symbols with visceral feelings. To believe it, you have to feel it. And it needs to ‘move’ you. In other words, it grabs you by your emotions.
With that done, the task is to repeat the message over and over. As Welch writes “Repeating over and over does not simply persuade someone that what is being said is true; it actually makes it real in the inner workings of the mind.”
Finally, the message needs to be associated with the school to the point that there’s little, if any, doubt that the message is valid (even if it’s not). But is it true? When it’s not, Welch says it at least needs to convey “the illusion of logical connections.” Welch calls that a pseudologic. “If the…“logic” (psychologic) leads to a pleasant emotional state,” Bryant asserts, “then people are less likely to challenge the faulty reasoning behind it.”
That isn’t to say that all collegiate affiliates are drawn magnetically into this type of “reality sense,” as Welch puts it. I’ve seen some affiliates express cynicism. And I’m not convinced that those who craft these brands always realize what they’re creating in a psychological sense (per Welch). But I do think it’s fair to say that (no matter what) the impact is predictably the same: it can be powerful.
Here’s a personal example. Not long ago I gave a lecture to a large undergraduate class. I front-ended my lecture with concepts about college branding and how it should be done responsibly. I then segued into a discussion of how and when it can be problematic (as I’ve done here). I ended my presentation by showing students two collegiate promo videos–exactly the same kind that you see during halftime. One video was produced by their school, the other video was produced by a school that’s a major source of agida.
How did the students respond? Using clicker-technology to get a quick profile of the collective, I found the answer to be overwhelmingly clear. “Good marketing” was the #1 response to their school’s promo. “Arrogance” was the #1 response to the other promo.
I find it all so fascinating! Among many things, it says a lot about human nature, including ourselves.
So, fans, enjoy the bowls. And make sure you pay attention to those college promos.