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A Christmas Carol (for Digital Marketers)

Marley was dead: there was no doubt. He had been unceremoniously marched off the premises by security carrying the contents of his desk in a forlorn brown cardboard box. His departure had been witnessed by several colleagues including his old partner in crime Ebenezer Scrooge. Several months had passed since his dismissal but he had not been missed. Yet Scrooge had admired Marley’s professional skill; his e-shots were legendary. Scrooge particularly liked Marley’s snappy subject lines and copy that sliced through SPAM filters.

Scrooge had carried on business in much the same way as he had before Marley’s departure. If anyone needed an e-shot or email blast, Scrooge was your man. As far as the company was concerned it was pretty much business as usual: Scrooge could (and would) do all that Marley had been capable of.

A complaint had arrived earlier in the day. Not as serious as the flood of complaints and blacklisting that had been the demise of poor Marley. But it was a complaint none the less. Some fool had emailed complaining that the company was spamming them and threatened reporting them to the spamcops.  Scrooge looked at the email with disgust. He checked his records. Sure enough the aggrieved individual was wrong. They had opted-in via a competition over a year ago and had received emails every fortnight since. OK so they had never responded or, as far as Scrooge could deduce, ever opened or read the communications. But they had opted in, so they were fair game.

‘Can’t these idiots read’ Scrooge muttered under his breath, ‘there is an opt-out button at the end of the page and we got their details legally’.

Whenever these complaints arrived or managers spoke of ‘best practise’ Scrooge’s answer was always the same: ‘We are DMA compliant and that should be good enough for anyone!’  Over the years the old spammer’s attitude had hardened, he was now so indifferent that even the most legitimate protest elicited a ‘you could always unsubscribe’ retort.

He left the building that Christmas Eve after a hard day’s emailing offers to over a quarter of a million unsuspecting victims. At least he would not have to deal with the complaints until the New Year; he had a week’s leave before returning to blast people with the ‘January Sales’.

Scrooge took his normal route home, past the railway arches where the homeless sleeping rough gathered for warmth and company. As he passed he faintly recognised a figure walking towards him. ‘Not another scrounging Big Issue seller’, he thought. ‘Good Grief!’ Scrooge exclaimed out loud, unable to hide his shock. It was Jacob Marley.

‘What has happened to you’ said Scrooge, ‘and what do you want with me Jacob?’

Marley

Jacob gave Scrooge a pitying look. ‘It’s where all us spammers end up’ said Marley, ‘it is my fate to wander the world, trying to engage people in conversation only to be shunned for my past sins’.

‘Well that will never happen to me’ said Scrooge, ‘I always work within the letter of the law’.

‘But not the spirit of the law’ retorted Marley, ‘and I’m here to warn you before it‘s too late, there is still time for you’.

Scrooge eyed his ex-colleague suspiciously. Certainly sleeping rough was not a fate he wished to contemplate but surely it wouldn’t happen to him.

‘You will be visited by three spirits of Article 13 of the EU Directive on Privacy and Electronic Communications’ explained Marley, ‘Take heed of what they have to teach you, in email the spirit of the law is more powerful than the letter’.

‘Rubbish.’ Scrooge spat the word with contempt and pushed past his old partner.

The First of the Spirits

The bottle of whiskey had barely slipped from Scrooge’s fingers and hit the floor when he awoke with a jolt. He sat bolt upright in his chair. It was dark save for the flickering glow from his PC Monitor. Scrooge felt uneasy. Was there someone with him in the darkened room? He looked around peering into the shadows. And then he saw it; large, sleek and confident in a well tailored business suit. The spirit spoke to him. ‘Here, Scrooge, touch these threads, great quality fabric, don’t you think?’

‘Who are you?’ Scrooge asked, rubbing his eyes.

‘Why I am the Spirit of email past’ said the Spectre, ‘touch my suit and I’ll show you shadows of things that have already been’.

As soon as Scrooge touched the Spirit’s suit the room around him dissolved and he found himself in a brightly coloured office full of busy, happy people. He recognised it immediately as the email agency he started work with almost ten years ago. Scrooge’s eyes fell onto a thin figure at the corner of the office, talking earnestly with an attractive young woman. He recognised himself immediately and the girl; they had been close once. He moved closer to hear the conversation.

‘You are wrong Scrooge’ said the girl, ‘email has to be completely permission based and companies that bend the rules will ruin the medium for themselves and for us all’.

‘I agree to a point’ said the young Scrooge, ‘that in an ideal world, all email would be permission based and I would be happy to run permission based campaigns only’.

Scrooge shifted uncomfortably as he heard his younger, more idealistic self speak.

‘But I have targets to hit’ continued his younger self, ‘and you just cannot get enough leads using permission based lists. Batch and blast is simply a practical solution’.

The scene dissolved and he found himself in an imposing office. The young girl was now clearly a powerful digital marketing director and sat behind an impressive looking desk. She was chatting on the telephone and laughing.

‘Old Scrooge’ she giggled, ‘no, he never moved on, he is still in the same dead-end job, blasting emails to everyone and anybody. I’m not sure if he is even making any money; e-shots are seen as a cheap alternative’.

Scrooge was visibly shaken to hear this girl laughing at his expense. She had resisted the temptation to abuse email and was now clearly very successful.

‘Take me away from here Spirit’ said Scrooge, ‘I have seen enough’.

The Second of the Spirits

Scrooge was back in his room. He shivered. The sight of his old girlfriend had unnerved him. Her contempt of his marketing methods had shaken him and Scrooge made a mental note to be a bit more careful with his New Year campaigns.

The old spammer had scarcely enough time to sit down before he heard the door creak. In one movement he stood and turned to face the door.

It stood there, smiling. Simply attired in ‘dress-down-Friday’ clothes, ‘Hey Scrooge’ said the Spectre, ‘I am the Spirit of email present!’

Scrooge looked into the smiling, kind face. ‘I was taught a lesson last night’ he said ‘if you have anything to teach me then lead on’.

‘Take my hand Scrooge’ we haven’t time to waste’, said the Spirit.

Again the room dissolved and he found himself in his boss’ office, looking over the old man’s shoulder.

Scrooge was nervous, ‘can the boss see or hear us?’ he asked.

‘No’ said the Spirit, ‘they do not know we are here’.

Emboldened, Scrooge moved closer to get a better look at what his boss was doing. It was Monday morning and the old man was working his way through a full email inbox. Scrooge watched as some of his best creative work was unceremoniously deleted. Then Scrooge’s eyes widened as he recognised his holiday request and another of his emails requesting a raise. Scrooge was unable to silence a yelp as he saw his emails deleted along with all the spam.

‘He just deleted my holiday request’. Scrooge complained to the Spirit.

‘Well that’s just one problem with SPAM’, explained the Spirit, ‘we get so much of it today that important messages are often missed’.

Scrooge stared wide eyed at the computer screen where his requests had just been deleted. ‘So that’s why I haven’t had a pay rise in five years’ said the old spammer, ‘Take me back Spirit’.

The Third of the Spirits

Ebenezer Scrooge found himself sitting in his chair. The room had not changed: it was still dark and the PC Monitor still flickered. He had no idea of time. Was it gone midnight? Would the light of morning never come? The old spammer was shaken, his mind raced. His job, his very profession was holding him back. Ebenezer’s old girlfriend had clearly moved on and was successful for it. All his email was being ignored; both the spam and the important stuff.

As he sat he felt an icy hand on his shoulder. Scrooge’s head spun and he did not like what he saw; a tall dark figure in a security guard’s uniform, eyes shadowed by a highly polished peaked hat.

‘Are… are you the Spirit of email future?’ Scrooge stammered.

The Spectre gave a slow single nod of its head.

‘Then take me where you will’, said the old spammer ‘although you frighten me I’m sure you have much to teach me.’

With that the room dissolved once more and Scrooge found himself in a bright airy corporate office. He was near a water cooler looking at a group of colleagues chatting happily. Scrooge moved closer to listen.

‘Haven’t received one for months,’ said a tall young man ‘life is so much easier and productive’.

‘Absolutely right,’ said a woman to his right, ‘I have not missed it at all since the rules were strengthened’.

‘I heard a lot of spammers have lost their jobs,’ said another.

‘Well they get no sympathy from me’ said the first young man, ‘They bent the rules and made the medium almost unusable, I’m glad they’ve gone.’

With that the scene dissolved and Scrooge found himself in a cold familiar place. It was the railway arches where he had met Marley not eight hours earlier. He turned to face the Spirit. The Spectre lifted up a gloved hand and pointed toward a row of cardboard boxes.  Fear like ice struck through Scrooge’s heart.

‘No Spirit, do not make me look’, said the old spammer.

Spirit of eMail Future

But the Spirit simply pointed again, silently urging Scrooge forward. Ebenezer took short faltering steps towards the nearest box. Inside and shivering in rags, Scrooge immediately recognised his older self. His face pinched against the cold wind, eyes and cheeks sunken and sallow with lack of food.

‘Oh Spirit’, said Ebenezer, ‘Are these things fixed and will happen or is there hope?’

Scrooge could not discern movement or emotion in the Spectre. ‘Please Spirit, is there time to change this outcome?’ And the Spirit gave a single nod of the head.

‘Oh thank you Spirit’ said Ebenezer, ‘although you are the most frightening of all the Ghosts that visited tonight, your lesson is the most powerful. Now, take me away from here.’

The Spirit’s icy hand touched Scrooge’s shoulder and he was returned to his room.

The End of it

Scrooge woke with a start. He looked around the room. Light streamed through his window, clear bright and cold. The computer was still on, screensaver casting a weak glow on the desk. The old empty bottle of whisky lay on the floor.

It had happened, over there by the door; that is where the Ghost of Christmas present had entered the room.
Scrooge smiled to himself. ‘Yes’, he cried out loud, ‘Yes spirits, I understand, from now on I will live by the Spirit of Article 13. There will be no more spamming by me’.

And the old man was as good as his word; he never sent a piece of spam again and it was always said of him that he knew how to email well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. As the years passed so his relationships grew from strength to strength.

Acknowledgement

Adapted from the original work by Charles Dickens 1843. In the New Year we will explore how you can break the cycle of poor email performance and improve the quality and depth of your digital communications.

Have a Great Christmas.

Mark

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Posted: December 21st, 2009 / 4 Comments /

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