In the Biblical Book of 1 Kings, Solomon must judge which of two women is the mother of a baby and, as a marketing experiment, he offers to split it in half. The bogus mom says “go for it” while of course the real mother says “she can have it, spare my child!”
This lesson was not lost on the new crop of marketers who seem to be in place at the World Wildlife Fund. They worry about which species you might like to support, so they give you a choice. Select a panda, polar bear or tiger, and to hell with the other two.
Of course, that’s not exactly what is happening. WWF wants you to “choose your favorite species” and they will send you a “symbolic adoption kit” consisting of an adorable stuffed panda/tiger/polar bear, matching tote bag, adoption certificate and “information brochure” when you make a commitment of $8 per month.
What is wrong with this campaign is a tone deaf absence of common sense. If you are a person committed to supporting threatened nature, “choose your favorite species” is fingernails on a chalkboard or a punch in the solar plexus. And as an adoptive parent I can tell you the concept of “symbolic adoption” is like that turd in the pie in The Help—gag-inducing repugnant. Adoption is like pregnancy. It is or it isn’t, no qualifiers allowed.
The devils that infest this package do more damage in the letter, whose first paragraph in its entirety is “You hear it every day:” Holy endangered pythons. Can you imagine a worse way to begin a letter than by acknowledging I am going to talk to you about something you already know? Then the final and fatal self-inflicted wound is delivered in the response device which, after all the lead-up in the letter and doubtless the campaign planning, reassures on the panel the recipient sees when opening the envelope that this is a “one-time gift”.
I actually have some inkling where this misbegotten concept originated. When my older son (not the “symbolic adopted” one) was about 4 years old, his big sister gave him an adoption certificate for an Asian tiger he was going to save through her gift. He was bummed because first, he wanted a stuffed tiger and second, he did not think he was up to caring for a real tiger.
You can see the wheels turning at WWF’s marketing department, before they came off. Great idea for grandparents! The kids are confused by the idea of “adoption” so let’s make it “symbolic”. And since polar bears, pandas and tigers are all just so cute, let’s give them a choice which they want to protect!
Sorry if I am on a bit of a high horse here, but we are not selling Bass-O-Matics®. This is a legitimate and well established not-for-profit with a very clearly defined mission. The sin, and let’s use that weighted word rather than just calling it a boneheaded mistake, was in forgetting a/who we are and b/who our audience is and c/where our mission and message intersects with their passion and desires.
If you’re a copywriter with recurring clients, you know this. An experienced WWF copywriter never would have come up with this concept because you have your client’s brand statement stapled on the wall of your studio if not tattooed on your brain pan. Pandas, tigers, polar bears, there’s room for everyone. Can we all get along?