Ancient Marcom: More Like Today Than You Think

This is old but it's about to be new because I've received a few"asks" to make this current. Therefore, submitted for your approval:

Marketing communications (marcom) remains a game of strategy, the winning approach incorporating the right mix of the right message, the right brand, and the right audience, using whatever targeted tools are on hand at the moment of dissemination. Modern arsenals are loaded with channels of communication, but way back in the day, it was word of mouth that was king. But how did ancients ignite the verbal firestorm, the chatter that would spread your message as far as the frontiers of your nation-state, or beyond?

I know. Can one really talk about “ancient marcom,” especially in comparison with the hyper-digital age? Yes. The foundations are the same—it’s the tools that evolve. And just as a matter of opinion, though well-substantiated, every stride man has ever made began with a marketing pitch, an effort to convince someone of something—and that pitch didn’t have to be about commerce, but it was always about getting someone to buy-off on an idea. Always. So marcom was born with that first message needing to be sent in order to persuade someone to engage in some activity: a trade, building a fire, going on a hunt, family or tribal politics, or military action—even sexuality. Oh yes, it could be definitively said that sexuality was, and is, a primal driver of promo­tion and persuasion.

"And so marcom was born with that first message needing to be sent in order to persuade someone to engage in some activity..."

Early channels of communication started with something as simple as a face-to-face pitch grunted at the mouth of a cave and then included public oration with animated-arm move­ments around the campfire. Beating rhythms on a hollow log ex­tended audience reach across valleys or along vast plains. Regard­less of however primitive intended exchanges may have been, their common purpose was to convince someone of something’s value, or to share a vision or objective with the family, the tribe, nearby tribes, perhaps even nomads. Civilization was evolving because of communication. Controlling fire was a great development, but it was the ability to relay an idea that fanned the flames of progress and established Homo Erectus as the species to contend with.

Along with man’s progression into organized communities—camps, hamlets, villages, towns, and then the inevitable metropolitan city-state—marcom evolved in parallel. Campfire storytellers evolved into heralds, standing at town centers to cry out news, official announcements, and, sometimes gossip. And this is where the Babylonians enter the picture by introducing the street barkers. 

Barkers are a simple concept. Pay someone willing to stand in public and yell out a message, repeatedly to passersby—whether it was public decrees by leadership, a sale, or an event. During the rise of the Greco-Roman eras, barkers evolved into orators. Orators were actually trained in delivering messages with the objective of persuasion. Even when hired to regularly “broadcast” news at specific times of day in specific centers of the city, it was never done so with journalistic objectivity. Just like today, the message was not to be confused by the facts.

By the time of Julius Caesar, Rome had even introduced social media and innovated public relations. Romans were notorious for employing an ancient version of Twitter, which was the hiring of professional “gossips” to spread the word on various subjects. These could be good or bad, but always juicy details—true or not—about politicians and policy, patrician celebrities, military leaders, or just something big coming, such as entertainment spectacles, gladiatorial combats, executions, or even market sales and particular product availability. Gossips worked the streets, eating establishments, social gatherings, the halls and anterooms of the Senate, etc. 

"Romans were notorious for employing an ancient version of Twitter."

Many gossips and her­alds mined their fodder from Julius Caesar, himself an adept public-relations hound. While on his Gallic conquests, he sent dispatches back to Rome, highlighting his exploits and victories, as well as providing a detailed accounting of the spoils of war, which he won for distribu­tion among Roman citizens, thus earning their admiration. Individually, these were exciting press releases from the front. Ultimately, they would be assembled in what is called, The Gallic War: Seven Commentaries on the Gallic Wars, Caesar’s version of The Audacity of Hope. 

"Writing with a marcom purpose first appeared around 1800 BC."

Writing, however, did not originate from Rome. That honor goes back to ancient Persia—mainly within Babylonia, hovering around 2500 BC. But writing with a marcom purpose first appeared around 1800 BC in the form of a clay cone. While this artifact now resides in Paris’ Musée du Louvre, it was once passed around the citizens of Sippar, a town near ancient Babylonia. Its cuneiform inscription dates back to the time of King Hammurabi, the author of the famous Code of Hammurabi, which are decrees remarkably similar to the Ten Commandments but predates the Commandments by 200-years. Nevertheless, the takeaway is that the “cone” was a keepsake, of sorts. It commemorated Hammurabi’s building of city walls to protect Sippar during the first half of the 18th century BC.

It was almost a thousand years later when another Babylonian icon gave us more evidence of his culture’s marcom innovations. Cyrus the Great ruled over Neo-Babylonia, more commonly called the vast Persian Empire, between 559 and 530 BC. To put this into perspective, it was during Cyrus’ time that tensions between Athens and Persia began, culminating in the Battle at Marathon, and later at Thermopylae, which made Sparta’s 300 so famous. And while Athens was somewhat irritated with Cyrus, the reality is that he was a pretty tolerant leader—and considered a very progressive thinking one. We get this from the Cyrus Cylinder.

The Cyrus Cylinder is just that, a terracotta cylinder with a lot of cuneiform writing all over it. The author was a master at writing to fit. In just 45 lines of text, the content is reminiscent of either a State of the Union speech or an annual report—perhaps both. Subject matter includes an in­troduction reviling Cyrus’ predecessor while associating Cyrus with a popular deity, including a prayer on behalf of Cyrus. It further details Cyrus’s royal titles and genealogy, and his peaceful entry to Babylon. The author also commends Cyrus’s policy of restoring Babylon and declares that Cyrus improved the lives of citizens, enabled the people to live in peace, repatriated displaced peoples, restored temples and cult sanctuaries, as well as increased the offerings made to the gods. Finally, it lists and details the Babylonian public-works activi­ties ordered by Cyrus.

"Cyrus was extolling his brand in quite a sophisticated manner—this cylinder was essentially his value proposition to the people of Babylon." 

Cyrus was extolling his brand in quite a sophisticated manner—this cylinder was essentially his value proposition to the people of Babylon. No doubt that Cyrus the Great was a peach of a king, but the Cyrus Cylinder is a gem of propaganda. The British Museum, where the cylinder is housed, describes it as an artifact of Mesopotamian “propaganda that reflects a long tradition in Mesopotamia where, from as early as the third millennium BC, kings began their reigns with declarations of reforms.”

The Cyrus Cylinder also reveals another Babylonian marcom innovation, “sponsorships.” We think of corporate logos plastered all over stadiums and skyscrapers, but the whole idea was born out of Babylon. Sponsorships allowed kings to stencil their names on the public works they’d constructed—temples, bridges, gates, stat­ues, or obelisks. Not just their names, mind you, but their deeds were carved or etched into stone, extolling their awesomeness. In effect, they put their stamp on something seen by everyone who either lived in their territory or visited it.

The modern evolution of sponsorships was already evident by the time of the Colosseum in Rome. Senators and other influencers purchase box seats at the arena—not unlike having season tickets and suites at today’s stadiums. They carved their name or message on the stone facing the center of the stadium so that citizens attending the games or event, would get a messaging “touch.” This tactic has not changed.

"But their deeds were literally carved     or etched into stone, praising their awesomeness."

Modern communicators like to think they are clever—espe­cially the gorilla marketers. But even then, the ancients were way ahead. Besides directly displaying their obvious charms to potential clients, prostitutes of the ancient world used a very clever chan­nel. The soles of their sandals were carved so they left an imprint that read, follow me on the ground as they walked. Talk about tracking your results.

Along one of the main roads in the ancient Greek port of Ephesus, there are well-worn cement blocks. In the lower corner of many of these pavers is the etching of a woman, presumably Aphro­dite. Beside her is an impression of a left foot, which supposedly tells one to look on the left side of the street. There are other images carved into the stone, but according to guides, these stones are early adver­tisements, essentially saying that “If you walk straight along this road, you will find women on the left side of the street. They will give you love for a price.” In other words, this was an ad for a local brothel.

"Marks identifying a particular brothel engraved into paver stones denoted some level quality..."

Similar stones can be found in other ancient port cities. Marks identifying a particular brothel engraved into paver stones denoted some level quality, be­cause if the house could afford the stones or craftsmen to engrave them, then they must be of quality—or at least popularity. Very often, such marks were akin to logos, symbols used to convey identity. They were a referent for those unable to read or, at least, unfamiliar with the written language of the land that they were in. In the ancient world, logos were a quick conveyance of what something was or what one might have gotten out of it.

It's understandable to a degree that a persistent misconception is that logo and brand are synonymous. They are not. And for explanation's sake, let's start with the origins of the expression "branding." The term is taken from "firebrand"—using a red-hot stick or metal to burn a mark in something, including livestock. While most of us associate the latter with the American west, the Egyptians were doing it well before the Christian era. Regardless of whether you’re describing stockyards in Tanis or Tombstone, the idea is the same and based on a unique or distinctive symbol burned into the flesh of horses, cattle, sheep or whatever. That symbol differentiates one person's livestock from another's. But that symbol, which could be interpreted as a logo, has absolutely zero value if you know nothing about it. The cow, and the resulting meat or breeding stock, could be quality or questionable. The symbol is meaningless without something of perceived value or experience associated with it. And value—real or perceived—is where branding comes in. Indeed, that is what defines a brand.

"That symbol differentiates one person's livestock from another's. But that symbol, which could be interpreted as a logo, has absolutely zero value if you know nothing about it."

Branding is about reputation, and reputation is the brand—what a prospective buyer or even the receiver of a simple message expects from the seller or the message bearer. Word gets around when a merchant sells junk or treats customers poorly. We know (or should) which information sources are about fluff or intentional misdirection. Even in personal branding, there are those people whose opinions are trusted, and others less so. All of that equals what marcom professionals refer to as "expectation." Then as now, the successful cultivation of expectation included the contemporary concept of "user experience," which is defined as a whole slew of things between a customer finding a merchant or service provider, to satisfaction after the sale. The essence of it all was the same as today, but especially crucial in the ancient world. The intended or desired public perception of one's brand depended on getting the word out—which meant using the channels of the day, including but not limited to gossips, orators, and clay cylinders—all firing up the Twitter of the ancient world, known as word of mouth.

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Ole Blood and Guts

General George S. Patton was the hard-charging, hard-talking, and hard-nosed “S.O.B.” remembered as much for his mouth as for his command abilities. In terms of military campaigns, his noted successes include North Africa, Sicily, and the opening months of America’s incursion into France. He is also credited with collapsing the NAZI offensive in December of 1944, known as the Battle of the Bulge. From an overall military standpoint, Patton is highly regarded as a commander. And he was bred for the role.

Military life was literally in Patton’s DNA. He was born to a wealthy family, both in terms of money and in rich military legacy. He is descended from Hugh Mercer, a hero of the American Revolution, and before that Mercer served with British forces during the Seven Year’s War. Patton’s grandfather commanded Confederate infantry during the Civil War, and his great uncle was killed at Gettysburg. Although having never served in the military, Patton’s father attended the Virginia Military Institute. No doubt that discipline and regimen were familiar concepts in the household, but owned wholly by young Patton was his determination.

Learning to read and write did not come easy to young Patton. And they would challenge him even into his college years. But he stuck with it and, with the help of a tutor, he grew into a hungry reader and even wound up writing poetry. He focused on military history––the classics, such as Julius Caesar’s Commentaries, the campaigns of Joan of Arc, and the exploits of Scipio Africanus (the Roman commander who defeated Hannibal and obliterated Carthage to end the Third Punic War). Those are big names to be sure. But they exemplify his focus and that all decisions aimed him in the direction of a military career, the only career he ever really wanted. Knowing that West Point (the US Military Academy) was likely out of his academic reach, at least initially, Patton settled on Virginia Military Institute (VMI) for his first year of college. But that was no cakewalk either. To this day, VMI is known as one of the most rigorous military academies on Earth. Still, Patton performed well enough academically and on his entrance exams to be accepted at West Point for the following year.

West Point curriculum hammered Patton, even to the point of having to repeat his first year, although he never yielded. Well understanding his differentiators, Patton conquered the military aspects of academy life by excelling in military drill. He quickly rose in cadet ranks and became well known and respected, not just for his performance in uniform, but for his athleticism, as well. Patton played football, participated in track and field, and the West Point sword team. He was also an excellent swordsman. So athletic was Patton that following his graduation from West Point, he was selected as the US Army’s entry in the 1912 Olympic Pentathlon. He finished fifth overall and was the top non-Swedish finalist. His performance was so impressive, he was later selected for the 1916 Olympics, but those games were canceled due to World War I. Even after the 1912 games, Patton continued studying fencing. Ultimately, young Patton became the US Army’s first officer to be conferred “Master of the Sword.”

All this lays the groundwork for the emergence of the Patton brand. But it was in his assignment to border patrol along the US/Mexico frontier that the Patton brand began its coagulation. And it came in two parts. Part one was the simple fact that Patton typically wore a sidearm, but due to an accidental discharge, he swapped his model 1911 Colt .45 automatic for an ivory-handled single-action revolver. Part two was courtesy of Pancho Villa.

A border war broke out between the US and Mexico in 1910, coinciding with the Mexican Civil War. Civil or not, wars have a habit of spilling over neighboring borders. And to be honest, relations between the US and Mexico have always been on the sketchy side. So when the US government came down on the side not backed by Villa, he was irritated. His men raided a small town a couple of miles north of the border in New Mexico. The town was burned and sacked with particular emphasis on American civilians and military being killed.

In those days, the US did not tolerate incursions into American territory. Patton finagled himself an assignment to Major General John J. Pershing, then-President Woodrow Wilson’s choice to lead what became known as the Pancho Villa Expedition. Patton impressed Pershing with his logistical abilities. He also saw much of his own leadership style in the young Patton. That style was tested on May 14th, 1916 as Patton led the first-ever motorized attack by US forces. That attack killed three of Villa’s men on a foraging expedition. This small success and Pershing’s favor would lead to Patton’s promotion from 1st Lieutenant to Captain in 1917, and to Patton again joining his mentor in Europe.

By this time, Europe was three years into World War I, ever since a young Bosnian Serbian dissident assassinated Archduke Ferdinand of Austria because of territorial disputes. In some corners of the US, it is still commonly thought that the sinking of the RMS Lusitania by a German U-boat on May 7, 1915, drew American response. The truth is that President Woodrow Wilson insisted America keep cool; however, he demanded that Germany cease attacks on passenger ships. Not only did Germany renege on its promise to leave civilian ships out of the fight, Germany also made a critical blunder. The German foreign minister sent Mexico what has come to be known as the Zimmermann Telegram. It’s called that because the German foreign minister was Arthur Zimmermann. It asked Mexico to enter the war on Germany’s side, and in return, Mexico would receive funds to support its continuing border wars with the United States. Specifically, the telegram addressed the goal of helping Mexico reclaim Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. Allied agents intercepted the telegram, and its contents were subsequently released to the American public.

Patton with an early tank in France.

No Bueno. Nein. Not gonna happen. The US declared war and within months, thousands of American servicemen were on their way across the Atlantic with Pershing and young Patton ahead of them. Now, this is key. Patton shifted focus from infantry to tanks. He attended the French Army tank school, drove tanks and toured factories, as well as interviewed British tank commanders. World War I was the birth of mechanized tactics, and Patton was studying hard.

In the closing months of the war, the Patton brand expectation strongly developed. He commanded tanks in battle, once even riding on top of one during an attack so as to inspire his men. On another occasion, he walked in front of a tank as his unit entered an enemy-held village. In advance of an attack, he personally performed a reconnaissance mission. From the outset of his command of tanks in WWI, he ordered no tank to ever be surrendered. He continued leading assaults until he was wounded, although he continued directing the action for another few hours before being evacuated to a hospital. Yeah, old blood and guts had arrived. Though that nickname was over two decades away.

The next two decades saw Patton press to develop US armored warfare—better tanks, adapting tanks from infantry support to independent fighting forces, refining tank operations, and more. He met Dwight D Eisenhower, who often agreed with Patton’s efforts. Concurrently, Patton graduated and then spoke at the General Staff College, as well as the Command and General Staff College. At one point in the quiet years between World Wars, Patton was assigned to Hawaii and responsible for its defense. He drafted a contingency plan called “Surprise” which was based on a presumed air raid of Pearl Harbor. That was in 1925.

Peacetime often bounces officers around to different postings, as well as in and out of continuing military education and professional development. It was no different for Patton. But he distinguished himself in almost every case. By 1938, he was a prime candidate for promotion to general. That happened in 1940 when he became a brigadier general and was given command of the 2nd Armored Brigade, 2nd Armored Division. It wasn’t long before he rose to Major General and took over the whole armored division. He became the head honcho of armored doctrine within the US Army. Repeatedly he demonstrated outstanding command abilities, once even completing two days worth of planned objectives in only nine hours. On the heels of the Pearl Harbor tragedy, Patton was assigned the 1 Armored Corps. Almost immediately, he began training for desert warfare in anticipation of North Africa—and Rommel.

Therefore, submitted for your approval…

1. Determine the most appropriate brand-positioning attribute.

Hard-edged and packed with sheer will.

Follow me or hit the highway

2. Devise a distinctive way to articulate the brand position.

Patton’s essential armored strategy was for his forces to stay in constant contact with the opposition. His instincts, and personal preference, were to always be on the offensive. In fact, when he was once asked if the Third Army's rapid offensive across France (1944) should be slowed to reduce the number of U.S. casualties, Patton’s reply was, "Whenever you slow anything down, you waste human lives."

Remain in constant contact with opposing forces and press forward—ever forward.

3. Develop a focused brand personality that customers can use to recommend or introduce your company to others.
Patton loved the heat of battle—perhaps even the idea of war itself. It was this Klingon enthusiasm for engaging the enemy that led soldiers to dub the old man as, “Old blood and guts,” and joking that it was his guts but their blood.

Old blood and guts

Supplemental to Patton’s view of war and warfare was his demeanor. The man was gruff in his presentation and his language. Patton delivered speeches to his men with all the eloquence of a sailor on leave (full of curse words). He did so because he believed if you “give it to ‘em hard they’ll remember it.”

4. Establish graphic standards.
Patton was sharply aware of image and public perception. Throughout the interwar decades, Patton’s command abilities made headlines. Americans knew who Patton was, and he very much cultivated the warrior image they saw. That persona was represented in no small part by his crisp-looking uniforms, but Patton was the only general who wore ivory-handled pistols—which he began wearing in the days just before engagements with Villa’s forces. They became his signature.

Ivory handle pistols 

5. Implement internal branding programs to reward employees for behaving in ways that are consistent with the brand personality.

Patton highly regarded his men. He trained them hard, drove them harder in actual battle. His expectations were high. And to help his men meet those expectations, more than most other commanders, he made sure his men had what they needed wherever possible. When they had done their duty to the best of their ability, even beyond, and especially at personal cost, he honored them.

6. Consistently and uniquely execute the branding program.

Patton always wore his full uniform, including necktie in the field, he expected every soldier to do the same. And he demanded the level best from every man, regardless of obstacles. He led with rigidity, but he also led from the front. Few today realize that during battle he was always somewhere around the front lines. In one eyewitness account, a bridging unit was pinned down by German machinegun fire from overlooking cliffs. Aside from the gunfire, they were having difficulty finding solid crossing. Suddenly they hear a siren. The shooting stops and all eyes—Allied and German—were on an American jeep driving up the German side of the riverbank. It was Patton. He purportedly stepped out, unzipped his fly, and urinated in the river. That was his signal to the bridging unit to get their butts in gear. The Germans just watched the whole incident, shocked and awed by Patton’s brazen act of relief.

If you were wounded in battle, Patton put you on a pedestal. If you were a coward, he reduced you to the lowest place he could find for you. He hated cowardice. And his zeal for heroism got Patton in hot water when he slapped a soldier for being a coward. He would later apologize to the man and those who witnessed it. But he loathed cowards.

NOTE: Much has been written as to whether Patton or Field Marshal Erwin Rommel of the Wehrmacht (the German unified war machine) was the better commander. Although the two never met in battle, Rommel might come out on top to the casual observer, but the reality is that Patton had stronger tactics built on well-thought-out strategies.

The Unsinkable Brand

 A century ago the RMS Titanic steamed into the annals of disaster brands. That may sound odd, but there are those ill-fated moments that persist in our psyche—they have attributes that lend themselves to a brand experience. Some disaster brands are epic in natural scale like Pompeii. Others are man-made calamities such as Pearl Harbor. Then there are a few that are more personal because of individual and familiar faces linked to the event, like Amelia Earhart. The Titanic is a little of both.

She was thought unsinkable, and the most technologically advanced vessel of her kind—engineered to a point of luxury and safety never before known. Yet two days before completing her maiden voyage, an iceberg clipped her hull and sent the iron maiden slipping into dark and freezing waters, taking with her more than 1500 souls, and forever changing the lives of the few hundreds that survived.

The sheer thought of the largest passenger ship afloat and over a thousand people lost was more than just a jolt to people of the day. It was akin to that of the 2004 Christmas Tsunami, 9/11, the Challenger disaster, and so on. These were culture or societal-shaking events. This one wiped away not just an inconceivable number of people with one swipe, but also high-society and big business celebrities of the day, changing fortunes forever.

That's the epic part. Then there are the spine-tingling personal artifacts recovered from the wreck and their haunting familiarity. Without ever having to see the person's face, we hear a quiet roar of the tragedy in the lost child or the missing spouse, all of whom suffered those chilling last moments in dark, frightening loneliness.

A passenger's shoe on the seafloor

For more than 80-years the Titanic was a ghost—no artifacts, no sonar images, no idea at all where she lay. Only reverent silence. That allowed later generations to say, "Huh ... wonder where it is..." A luxury of detachment disappeared with her being found and documented in high definition, and with the raising of the first porcelain doll.

There's not a lot that's new in the Titanic story. Although several outlets are releasing a horde of new digitally-processed sonar mosaics, and hours of dim footage and photographs from deep inside and around the decaying hulk. Okay, so the wreck is re-imaged—again. And a previously unknown account by a long-dead survivor has surfaced.  His story is like those of other survivors—horrifying.

We've seen the wreck, we've heard or read the survivor accounts and forensic details, watched the documentaries—maybe even sat through James Cameron's 3-hour retelling of the story. Why?

It is the Titanic.

The Titanic brand is part of our collective fabric. Like her name, the brand is huge in delivering an experience—a brand experience defined by compelling words like cold, dark, lost, irrecoverable, mysterious, or empty. Just mentioning the name emotes sadness, gloom, maybe even a twinge of fear. And the part that our human arrogance struggles to overcome is that we can't fix this. We can't raise or restore her. There is no one's butt to kick in vengeance. The Titanic is forever lost.  She burns in our memory because her tragedy is so permanent. Unlike the vessel herself, the Titanic memory is unsinkable.

Just the facts: The RMS Titanic sank in the early morning hours of 15 April 1912 in the North Atlantic Ocean, four days into her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York City. Learn more at National Geographic.

Originally posted April 2012.