See clearly. Bring focus.
"People don't buy what you do, they buy why you do it."
I loved the ad, despite it's terrible design. But it also goes to show just how it easy to stand out if your brand actually stands for something. Patagonia's is a simple message. But it's a value that's real and counter to the mindless crush of consumerism. I'm thrilled that Patagonia has taken this stand in their advertising, not just that it may in its own small way help shape consumer behavior towards more sustainability, but also that it may inspire other brands to re-think the values they stand for.
There's a widely held trope in the tech community -- strong even among Mr. Jobs' disciples -- that the product is the marketing. Or as venture capitalist Fred Wilson once wrote, "marketing is what you do when your product or service sucks."
But Mr. Jobs didn't see it that way. While Apple's seductive products and luminous storefronts are core elements of its brand, Mr. Jobs saw the advertising as inextricable from the product. That's because the product wasn't an iMac, iPod or iPhone, it was the brand itself and how a well-designed product -- any product -- can make your life better.
"Even a great brand needs investment and caring if it is going to retain its relevance and vitality," Mr. Jobs said to staff at after he returned to Apple in 1997 and unveiled the "Think Different" campaign.
He looked old. Not old in a way that could be measured in years or even decades, but impossibly old. Not tired, but weary; not ill or unwell, but rather, somehow, ancient. But not his eyes. His eyes were young and bright, their weapons-grade intensity intact. His sweater was well-worn, his jeans frayed at the cuffs.
But the thing that struck me were his shoes, those famous gray New Balance 993s. They too were well-worn. But also this: fresh bright green grass stains all over the heels.
Those grass stains filled my mind with questions. How did he get them? When? They looked fresh, two, three days old, at the most. Apple keynote preparation is notoriously and unsurprisingly intense. But not so intense, those stains suggested, as to consume the entirety of Jobs’s days. There is no grass in Moscone West.
Surely, my mind raced, surely he has more than one pair of those shoes. He could afford to buy the factory that made them. Why wear this grass-stained pair for the keynote, a rare and immeasurably high-profile public appearance? My guess: he didn’t notice, didn’t care. One of Jobs’s many gifts was that he knew what to give a shit about. He knew how to focus and prioritize his time and attention. Grass stains on his sneakers didn’t make the cut.
I like to think that in the run-up to his final keynote, Steve made time for a long, peaceful walk. Somewhere beautiful, where there are no footpaths and the grass grows thick. Hand-in-hand with his wife and family, the sun warm on their backs, smiles on their faces, love in their hearts, at peace with their fate.
