• by Matt Ryan , August 15, 2011

The last few years have brought us the concept of businesses deemed Too Big to Fail. What about brands? Is there such a thing as a brand Too Good to Fail? I believe there is. We all know that in the intangibles economy a brand name may represent enormous, often incalculable, value.

Allowing the brand to fade away, even under the most adverse of circumstances, could prove a far costlier proposition than whatever might be required to invest it with new life and purpose. In The Creative Business Idea Book, my colleagues address the issue of brand fatigue -- and brand mortality -- and offer up proven ways to bring a brand back among the living.

A good starting point is to rethink the business the brand is in, a tactic we employ across categories. A decade ago, a new client, a mattress manufacturer, was hurting. The company had been selling its revolutionary air-system mattress for years via direct marketing ads on late-night television. The pitch couldn't have been simpler: The adjustable mattress alleviates back pain. But the product's primary audience was simply not buying enough beds to keep the company afloat. The newly arrived CEO challenged us to come up with a campaign that would turn the business around.

The key was to think more broadly than back pain, focusing instead on what people really want from their mattresses: a good night's sleep. Henceforth, the brand would be in the "sleep enhancement business," targeting active adults leading busy lives who are always looking for new products to make their lives better.

The company already had the technology to appeal to them: a system of adjustable air chambers that allows the user to personalize the mattress's firmness from levels 0 through 100. The preferred firmness level became that person's "Sleep Number," and is what the agency would promote as the "secret to a perfect night's sleep."

The execution of this idea required the redesign of every aspect of communication, including rebranding the retail locations with the Sleep Number name. Company executives got on board, too, redesigning their business cards and letterhead to feature their own personal Sleep Numbers.

The company had been aiming for a 20% sales increase. By redefining the business it was in, it did even better, with sales up 30% in targeted markets. Inquiries spiked 38%, and, amazingly, in its first year awareness of the new brand name surpassed that of the 14-year-old original by more than 2 to 1. For the first time in a decade, the company turned a profit. Now that's the stuff of dreams.

Sometimes injecting life into a flagging brand requires not so much a change in the brand offering as the reenergizing of its customer base. Such was the case for America's most venerated magazine, which continued to offer the highest levels of quality introduced by its founders 150 years earlier, among them Emerson, Longfellow, and Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. What had changed in recent years wasn't the magazine but the reading public. Short-burst texting, reality TV, and other elements of our new "culture lite" had sharply reduced the audience of critical thinkers. Potential readers shied away from the publication, worried it would be too difficult, that it would leave them feeling intellectually wiped out.

Countless publications and television news programs have watered down their offerings in recent years, rejecting seriousness of mind in favor of pop culture and lowbrow entertainment. Our client stood firm, refusing to contribute to the continued dumbing down of modern culture; instead, it made the decision to revitalize its brand not by changing the magazine but by adjusting the mindset of its target audience. It would get people to think again -- not about Lady Gaga or the newest plot development on "Glee," but about issues of real import.

The campaign centered on questions we drew from the pages of the magazine. Among them: "Is Google making us stupid?" "Is war a sport?" "What's the cost of being a nerd?" "Who will own your next idea?" Fourteen of these questions were planted around New York City as giant neon signs. Others were slipped in among goods in local stores -- affixed to a cupcake or block of cheese in a display case, for instance -- all intended to catch people unawares and get them thinking about something beyond their own daily routines.

On the campaign website, visitors could view videos of passersby grappling with the questions and were invited to comment on essays pertaining to the areas of discussion. It worked. Weary of soul-numbing inanity, substance-hungry readers returned to the magazine in droves, with sales of the first print issue following the campaign launch up 35%. Digital revenue spiked 197% against the same period the year prior, and a new breed of modern advertiser, including Apple and Audi, signed on with the magazine. Sometimes a person's prefrontal cortex just needs a bit of a jumpstart. And sometimes a brand does, too.