An Auction Bidder’s Wish List
I’m the oldest of six children, and my wife was the first of five offspring for my in-laws. So, I’m thankful that both of our families exchange names for “secret sibling” Christmas gifts.
My side of the family makes it even easier by creating a message thread on Facebook where we post our respective wish lists for our secret sibling to use for reference in their holiday shopping.
To keep you reading, I’ll show you what I posted.
(in this order):
anything from here: http://www.gfa.org/gift/home
gift cards from iTunes, REI, or Dick’s Sporting Goods
solid-color winter beanies
Smart Wool® socks
black Crocks (size 10)
solid color fleece sweatshirts or hoodies
athletic ankle socks
100g Jetpower micro-canister
What you’ll notice is that I didn’t write, “Something nice,” (though everything on this list is nice to me) or “Great deal for the money” (though I hope my sibling finds the deal of a lifetime). Why? Because those are ambiguous requests—unhelpful direction. See, when they go to a store, there won’t be an aisle for “something nice” or “a sweet deal!” If they Google search for “something nice,” they will get these random acts of results.
This makes sense on a personal level; but, for some reason, auction marketers disregard this common wisdom when advertising the assets in their auctions. Their headlines, line ads, and websites lead with information that buyers will not type into their search engines, apps, or wish lists.
Raise your hand, if you’ve seen an auction advertisement that said “Investment Opportunity!” Now keep that hand raised if you think anyone is searching for an office building, flatbed truck, bass boat, or 1950’s Texaco sign with those two words. In our search culture, advertising needs to focus on the facts, not the pitch—even for offline media. You might be able to schmooze bidders at open houses or at the auction, even though our culture is growing less tolerant of the commissioned sales schtick. But you’ll be hard pressed to find advertising that works that way.
Recently, I was asked to rewrite some sales copy on a luxury home, since [I assume] it wasn’t getting many bites. I couldn’t change the facts, just the adjectives and syntax. Even if I were J.K. Rowling, I couldn’t rewrite that paragraph in a way that would change someone’s mind about that house. Either they wanted what it had or they didn’t. If they wanted four bathrooms and an in-law suite, only a house with those specifications would work. If they wanted an in-ground pool, stables, and a riding ring, they were looking for those words in whatever media they’re using to shop.
Fluff text is inefficient use of space and attention. There’s no search criteria field in Trulia for “cute,” no check box on Realtor.com for “cozy,” no ebay category for “like new.” I just checked: LoopNet doesn’t have a menu selection for “potential.” Pictures, dimensions, location, age—immutable, objective data—will tell someone if an asset matches their wish list; their own emotional and financial situation will translate that information into subjective evaluations.
I’m regularly amused by auctioneers telling their audience that an address is conveniently located in reference to places a half hour or more away from the subject property. Convenience is a relative value. Oh, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen “Unlimited potential!” as a real estate headline or bullet point. I don’t have a real estate license, but I’d imagine legal boundaries and zoning commissions significantly restrict infinity. But even if the future development of a property were somehow unlimited, who’s searching for that ambiguity?
Whether searching for Christmas gifts, farm equipment, or a strip mall, consumers will echo what Detective Joe Friday said on Dragnet, “All we want are the facts.” It’s insulting to tell a buyer what the facts mean. Buyers will most likely know if what you’re selling is a collectors item, if a home is designed for entertaining, if an address is a good business location—based on the facts at hand.
Does this mean advertising should be reduced exclusively to a list of bulleted descriptions? No—even if in many media, that’d be the most efficient strategy. Write your sales copy as long as space and budget will allow. Emphasis, though, belongs to the facts. Headlines should tell people if what they want might be described in the next section. Top billing should go to the unarguable.
Make it easy for potential buyers to compare your sale item(s) to their wish list. That ease of comparison reflects on your brand, whether they bid or purchase from you or not.
Taking It Personally
Outside of sports programming or sitting in a waiting room, I couldn’t tell you the last time I watched TV news. Beside how partisan each of the networks have proven to be, I’m disenchanted by the 24-hour news network ecosystem’s need to fill so much of their time with commentary. I don’t need anyone to tell me what I should feel about a congressional bill, a televised debate, an oval office speech. I think that’s why I’m drawn to Twitter so much as a news source. News sources there have to dump the main point and a link in 140 characters or less.
News never has been objective; I don’t know how it ever could be. So, I don’t ask it to be.
Maybe that’s why after sitting through literally over 5,000 sermons and Bible lessons, I’m so drawn to my TruthWorks Bible study, where I’m pointed to a passage of Scripture with three questions: “What does the writer actually say?” and “What does that mean—in a big picture context?” and then “What do I do right now with this truth?” It’s good to have wise, educated people bring light to Scripture; and I believe teachers can be agents of the Holy Spirit. But we need to be careful not to rely on other people to tell us what to believe; we need to be like the heralded Bereans, who “received the word with great eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see whether these things were so.”
Stock image purchased from iStockPhoto.com