Burger King ("BK") has a lot going for it. The very foundation of its offering is a broiled burger, first made possible by the "Insta" machines that the chain's founders bought in 1953. The Whopper sandwich came about in 1957 (a full 10 years before McDonald's would create its Big Mac). Its menu has much more in common with California's In-N-Out Burger than any other burger chain, though writ across vastly more company-owned and franchised outlets.
It just can't seem to make any money at it. A decade's worth of wildly experimental and bold marketing hasn't been able to move the needle. The company has reported declining sales over the past six consecutive quarters, and I doubt that you or I could clearly articulate what BK stands for vs. its competition (or why any of us should stop reading this essay and go buy a Whopper right now). It hasn't helped that ownership of the business has changed hands more than once in recent memory.
But it's the marketing that really stands out. BK hired Crispin Porter + Bogusky in 2002 and subsequently embarked on a two-pronged strategy to sell the brand:
The first element of its plan was to elevate awareness of its mascot, the Burger King, to cult status. You know how successful it was since you can see him in your mind's eye (even if you wish you couldn't). The cheesy, kinda spooky face frozen in an emotionally-neutral smile on a head that is too large for its bejeweled, knee-socks wearing body turned up everywhere, including TV commercials, a Halloween mask, NFL footage, a MySpace page, goofy UGC videos, faux TV news stories, and at least three video games.
The second element was to use emerging new media, so BK produced a series of campaigns and events like a de-friending activity on Facebook, viral videos of peasants encountering their first hamburgers, and offering a cologne spray that smelled like burnt meat. These activities generated tons of attention, both from consumers’ reacting and sharing them and critics generally celebrating their audacity.
The problem was that all of this awareness didn't do anything for sales. It's not surprising, since it's hard to find any hint of a relevant, meaningful, or compelling message in any of the activities cited above. The strategy must have been to run in-your-face promotional marketing under cover of the branding in hopes that the two would coalesce in the consciousness of consumers. It didn't, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that CP+B's breakthrough branding for the King and its use of new media could have been promoting floor polish or bubble gum. It had absolutely nothing to do with hamburgers (FYI, BK finally fired CP+B last week).
So what should BK do now? It's better than a 50-50 bet that it'll recruit a new CMO who will bring in her or his favorite agency to come up with an entirely new strategic direction. What would you want to tell them to consider? Here are three starter ideas from yours truly:
- Make your outlets uniquely great. BK restaurants look like neglected truck stops compared to most of its competition, and I bet it would take zillions to improve their physical aspects (which the company probably doesn't have available to spend). Its people are malleable, though, so why not explore ways to make the human interaction component of the outlets unique and great? Experience is about people and not necessarily shiny countertops. Would a bolder healthcare plan inspire them? Incentives for happy customers? Credits for continuing education? Better ways to satisfy customers?
- Apply your menu to real eating habits. Nobody can or should be a heavy BK-user (pun intended), and it's unreasonable to dilute a hamburger-joint menu to include items it has no business offering. Let McDonald's try to be all things to all people. So consider campaigns that engage with consumers by reminding them they're due for a BK break (less daily consumption and more special treat). Maybe incentivize that behavior? What about innovating different burger configurations based on time of day or level of hunger?
- Remember to talk about hamburgers. What does "flame-broiled" really mean? BK owns this idea and has never defined it, so who needs it? If all you do is sell yet another fast-food option you have to compete on intangible associations that are ephemeral. Don't be cute; be necessary. There have to be ways to define and deliver messages that don't say, "We're fun, eat our hamburgers," but rather "Here's why you want a BK burger." Does flaming the meat mean you add less bad stuff to it? I have no idea what’s possible here, but talking about hamburgers seems crucial. After all, it's in the damn name of the company.
Once BK gets its branding heads around the premise that the purpose for spending marketing dollars is to generate foot traffic and hamburger purchases, it can go about using all of the new media vehicles to tell deliver that idea.
What do you think? Tell me and we'll put together some open source advice and see if Burger King is really interested in conversation!
(Image credit: Burger King)
