Stop Telling People You’re Good. Try Being More Like James Garner and Mariette Hartley.

Marketing 101:

Nothing irritates consumers more than hearing you’re good. Maybe you are good. Maybe everything thing you do in this world is good. But saying it leaves the impression you’re not convinced, that the minute you stop pronouncing, people won’t believe you anymore.

Marketing departments worry about this every day. They say to themselves "If we stop we’re dead. If we don’t pronounce , someone else will. The loudest voice is always the last one heard. Nobody gets anywhere being humble or quietly self-assured. What’s wrong with being confident?"

Have you noticed there aren’t any Jimmy Stewarts in movies anymore? We have strong, silent types, brash types, loud mouths, but no humble stars. If I say "strong, silent type today," it usually means this person is seconds away from administering justice in a truly menacing way. I remember a famous copywriter (the name escapes me now) telling the story of growing up in an Italian household. His father used to say: “Whatever you do, do it loud.”

Loud, brash, self-assured, it plays well in the movies—but not so much in our day- to-day world, especially in marketing and advertising. As much as we love, say, Robert de Niro, he isn’t a great pitchman. Joe Pesci is a great pitchman, but only for short periods of time. We like him. He doesn’t take crap from anybody. But what we love to hear doesn’t always translate into what we love to buy. Noise doesn’t break down our resistance, it reinforces it.

Take two of the greatest spokespeople in advertising history: James Garner and Mariette Hartley. Back in the late seventies, Polaroid decided to try James Garner after having some success with Lawrence Olivier (he introduced the SX-70 camera). Garner was an instant success because he was so likeable (Olivier was a bit too histrionic).

Garner brought a calm, self-effacing charm to Polaroid. Rather than pitch, he talked, he chatted, he made us feel like his friend. All the while, though, he was selling—not that you’d notice—but, boy, people bought Polaroid cameras like crazy. For a while there, Polaroid were giving serious camera companies like Nikon a run for their money. If James Garner thought the Polaroid camera was “nifty,” well, nifty was good enough for us amateur photographers.

So there’s Garner, selling Polaroid cameras, being his own amiable self, when who should appear as an extra in one of the spots but Mariette Hartley. Someone in the production department noticed some chemistry and the rest is history. By that I mean, they made history. Those two together sold the Polaroid OneStep and Amigo like nobody’s business.

Back then, it seemed like everybody had one, or wanted one. We were so taken in by those two, we were sold in thirty seconds. Was it the irreverent banter between them? Was it Hartley’s snappy replies? Was it Garner’s deadpan expressions? Sure, it helped. Everything they did helped. I doubt there was a couple living in America who didn't want to be like James Garner and Mariette Hartley.

But go back and watch those spots closely (most are on YouTube). Throughout that witty, irreverent, wonderfully human banter, they never stopped talking about the camera. By the time they finished, you just had to have “the simplest camera in the world,” and we all waited each night, hoping a new spot would come along (which they did with surprising regularity).

As Garner and Hartley proved, the real trick to the pitch is not to pitch. Better to be like Mark Anthony in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar: “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.” That’s really what it’s about: Lend me your ears.

Every time I look at those Polaroid spots, I say “Well done, geniuses. You got our ears in the first seconds." Nothing feels commercialized or pitchy or arm-tugging. It feels so natural and effortless, you don’t just like what they say, you respect what they say.

Now let’s move ahead to today. We’ve lost that respect. We’re so busy saying we’re good, we show our insecurity. We thrash about, we shout, we all feel we’ve done our jobs. Ecept all we’ve really done is make ourselves—and our clients—look small. Nobody wants to see our insecurities. They’ve got enough of their own. The last thing they want filling their television screens is someone pronouncing. We turn down the volume, we get ourselves a coffee. We can't get away from that guy fast enough.

So Mark Anthony was right. We should be asking consumers to lend us their ears. And I mean lend, not give them away. Nobody gives anything away anymore without some assurance of interest and trust. Look, we're surrounded by media and promises. Everyone's talking at the same level. There's no loyalty because you can't build loyalty with volume.

James Garner and Mariette Hartley understood that better than anybody (except for Mark Anthony, of course). We’re in the business of coaxing, and the best kind of coaxing brings people to you—not forces them.

I’d suggest everyone go to YouTube and watch those Polaroid commercials. It’ll give you a whole new perspective on what’s good and what isn’t.

If you want to discuss, feel free to contact me at: rcormack@rogers.com

Robert Cormack is a freelance copywriter still capable of writing good, persuasive advertising. Please check out my portfolio at robertcormack.com. My first novel: “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. For more information, go to Yucca Publishing or Skyhorse Press.