IT’S NOT CONSUMER-CREATED IF IT COMES FROM A PRO

In the case of the Doritos consumer-created promotion mentioned above, the winning entry, “Free Doritos,” did come with a hitch. You see, the Herbert brothers are actually professional videographers with their own independent film studio, Transit Films, which offers adver- tising and animation services, as well as a game studio. Facts that most major news organizations failed to report.

As Dave Herbert tells me, the “Free Doritos” spot represented the second time he and his brother and friends had entered the con- test—they were runners-up in a prior year—and that the idea was to help put their services on the map. They were obviously stunningly successful.

“When [Doritos] said they’re putting up the $1 million price for the Ad Meter [winner], we did a lot of research on how the Ad Meter works, and tailored our commercial to exactly what we thought would achieve a high ranking,” he says, reflecting on his observation that the everyday consumers who vote in USA Today’s Ad Meter tend to favor sophomoric humor. “Apparently that worked.”

To be fair, this was indeed a grassroots effort—the brothers say they only spent about $2,000 to produce the spot, most of which was spent

on food for the cast and crew, and $400 for the cost of a vending machine they bought on eBay.

About $100 went to five panes of vending machine glass the actors throw the crystal ball into—which meant their $1 million–winning spot had to be made in no more than five takes.

Of course, it stands to reason that people who are seriously into film- making—and who are actually good at it—would win such competitions. But while brands themselves may make the contests open to all comers, the media should, perhaps, stop framing these promotions as if they mean a ticket to the big time for folks like Chris Larrigan and his friends.

In fact, popular past Doritos Super Bowl contest winners “Live the Flavor” (guy crashes car while eyeing attractive girl) and “Checkout Girl” (cashier and customer raucously bond over Doritos flavors) for instance, come from Dale Backus and Wes Phillips of Cary, North Carolina, and from Kristin Dehnert of Pacific Palisades, California, respectively. Backus and Phillips are professional videographers with their own commercial production company, and Dehnert is an award- winning filmmaker.

As a result, their entries look great. They’re well shot, well cast, and well produced. Doritos’ own ad agency couldn’t have done better.

And that’s a conceit that won’t wash with consumers for long. As I recently told National Public Radio, “It’s ironic, because the people who actually end up winning these things are the people who could probably build careers in advertising, if they aren’t already.”

“For people who are looking to break into the business, it gives them a chance to showcase their work,” says Herbert. “For us, it put us on the map.”

Which is nice for the Herbert brothers, but when you factor in all those really awful yet truly consumer-created spots that are submitted along with gems like theirs, even brands might start reconsidering the open-to-all approach to UGC campaigns. There is also the question of what value these kinds of contests even bring to the brand.

In truth, brands can spend just as much money on advertising these contests as they would to simply promote the product. And once com- mitted, they then have to assign resources to wade through a moun- tain of excruciatingly bad ads to get to one the marketer could have just produced in the first place.

In my view, if you’re going to run these kinds of promotions, it’s important to stay true to the idea of consumer-created content in an unambiguous way. You just need to be smart about how you do it.

Case in point: Medicis Pharmaceutical Corporation, which recently added a new wrinkle to the way it markets Restylane, a der- mal injection that reduces the appearance of fine lines.

The effort: the “Hottest Mom in America” contest, in which par- ticipants could submit videos to the contest’s website for the chance to win a $25,000 college scholarship for the munchkin, $25,000 cash, an interview with a prominent modeling agency, and yes, a year of free Restylane injections.

In such a scenario, there’s very little incentive for “prosumers” to participate—the results are about the subject matter at hand—which, of course, is your mom. Who looked stunning in her video, by the way. Likewise, Justin Timberlake’s 901 Tequila recently invited con- sumers to post videos or photos about their “Big Idea” for marketing the brand—whether it be an ad campaign, a breakthrough promo- tion, a viral video, or whatever—for the chance to become 901’s new Executive Vice President of Big Ideas. Apparently, this position entails a VIP trip for two to Las Vegas, tickets to a Timberlake con- cert, VIP access to after parties, an annual salary of zero, and the opportunity to get coffee for other 901 employees. Here, it’s all about the idea Timberlake and his team are after, not the finished manifestation. So there’s little incentive for professionals to get involved. Unless, of course, they’re really into serving coffee for unappreciative colleagues.

Regardless of 901’s desire for alcohol-inspired shenanigans or Restylane’s full-throttle embrace of shallowness, these efforts

exemplify UGC at its best: everyday people making videos for their favorite brands.

Ask yourself this: Are you really engaging your most fervent fans through these contests, or are you merely outsourcing the creation of professional ads?

“I don’t know if they would ever change the name to ‘prosumer’[- generated advertising], because the brands want to invite their con- sumers into it and participate and [to give everyone a voice],” surmises Herbert. But, he adds, “[The contests are] open to everybody, which does make it harder for the consumer—the average guy that picks up a camera doesn’t really have as much of a shot to win.”

If it’s about the contest, keep it real.