Fallible is valuable — using the pratfall effect to benefit your cause.
It’s been years, but I still remember a late Friday afternoon phone call from a client who abruptly cut off my hello with a mildly frantic, “I’ve screwed up.” She had gotten word from a board member that her annual appeal had no return envelope for donations. “Have you checked with other donors to make sure it wasn’t a fluke?” I replied. That rendered a hasty yes. “What do I do?” she asked. While hardly a mission-critical mistake, we’ve all been there in one way or another.
My advice was hardly groundbreaking: send a second letter explaining the omission along with the previously overlooked return envelope. She did just that, and the outcome was a record-breaking culmination of year-end giving. Human error proved a winning move. My kind client’s unintentional blunder was actually a fairly flawless execution of a bias called the pratfall effect.
Psychologist Elliot Aronson first demonstrated this quirk of behavioral science by filming an actor responding to a series of questions in a quiz show format. After answering almost all of them correctly, the actor “accidentally” spilled a cup of coffee. Aronson showed the film to two large groups, asking each how likable the contestant was. The first group saw the spill, while the second group’s video stopped short of it. The group that saw the mishap found the seemingly clumsy contestant much more likable.
Some clever consumer brands have successfully used the pratfall effect. You might recall Domino’s 2010 admission that their pizza wasn’t very good. Ads featuring harsh customer feedback coupled with the steps Domino’s was taking to improve things resonated with their audience, promptly improving sales. Stella Artois used the slogan “Reassuringly Expensive” for 25 years, simultaneously countering price hesitancy and reinforcing their product’s superiority over cheaper rivals. And of course, there’s Doyle Dane Bernbach’s exalted “Think Small” campaign for the Volkswagen Beetle that artfully turned objection into endearment in the 1960s and continues to grace advertising textbooks today.
Comparably, few causes have demonstrated this type of vulnerability in their messaging. I believe that’s a missed opportunity. Movements for good take heed – the pratfall effect needn’t be reserved for beer and pizza. A dose of self-deprecation can humanize your issue, or at least your organization’s attempt at addressing it. The honesty of admitting flaws also makes subsequent messages more believable. And extreme candor amplifies your communication, making it more memorable.
Headwinds can become tailwinds if you rethink and embrace:
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Capacity Limitations
A few weeks ago, I was prepping for an initial meeting with
a national nonprofit. A little time on their website revealed
that they were doing such incredible work that the demand for
their services far outstripped supply. Their prospective clients
have to complete an application online. They can’t serve everyone
who applies, so they only review applications once a month in
order to select the most profound cases to support.
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No Laughing Matter
I sense many of you feel that a pratfall strategy isn’t a good
fit for your cause. That the situation you address is too severe,
sensitive, or tragic. And some of you are right. But understand,
this kind of messaging doesn’t have to be tongue-in-cheek. It can
be disarmingly straightforward.
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It’s CounterintuitivePratfall messaging isn’t a fitting strategy for everyone. But those who embrace it deftly will enjoy a distinctiveness that their competitors lack. As a nonprofit or government initiative, your share of voice is too limited to always opt for the safety of mainstream dialogue. Few initiatives have as significant a comms budget as they’d like. So, for those of you trying to stretch dollars, openly admitting your weaknesses is one way to do just that. |
Every time I spot the pratfall effect, I’m awakened to how much I covet perfection, and to the futility chase. We live in a most imperfect world. As people trying to find meaning in our work, in hoping to make the world a little better, I suppose we inherently want to sweep our troubles under the rug. Maybe what we need to do instead is remind ourselves that honesty is the ultimate virtue. Thanks for believing in good.
Yours in truth,
Kevin