It was time to make my move. Recognize the opportunity. Seize the day. All that fortune cookie stuff.
The maker of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, and a zillion other products we all know, eat, or use, put Facebook and Google on notice. Clean up the garbage on your platforms, or we might yank some of the billions of dollars we spend buying online ads.
Now, I like a good money grab as much as the next guy, so I called Unilever’s competition. If there’s one thing corporations hate, it’s having a competitor stake out the high ground.
A pleasant gal answered on the twelfth ring. “Brenda Billows, how may I misdirect your call?”
“I’m looking for Sam Smedley, head of marketing for The Big Consumer Goods Company,” I said.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Smedley is in a meeting. Or on another more important call. Or maybe just not interested in speaking with you. Can I take a message?” Brenda asked.
“You tell Sam the answer to his prayers is on the line.”
“Mr. Smedley is not a particularly religious person,” she said. “And I don’t really have time for this. I have a conference call to discuss our conference call schedule.”
“Let me make you a little prediction, Brenda. You put me through to Sam, and he’ll be so happy after hearing my plan, he’ll promote you to senior executive administrative assistant.”
“I don’t want the word senior anywhere near my name. They’ll think I’ve been around too long. They forced out the last gal that had it,” she said.
“How old was she?”
“Twenty-eight,” Brenda said.
A second later a gruff, hurried voice came on the line. “Smedley here. This important? I’m very busy.”
“How’d that Unilever news go over at your place, Sam?” I asked.
“Not well. I got my CEO bitching about why I didn’t come up with the idea first. Threatening to yank ads from Facebook and Google. Calling the web a swamp with no transparency. It’s genius, I tell you. They look like holier-than-thou good guys,” he said.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. But we gotta answer. We gotta do something. You know, return the serve,” he said.
“Here’s what you do, Sam. You go ahead and yank your ads. Take action. Don’t bother talking the talk, walk the walk.”
“You got my attention,” Smedley said.
“Anyone can issue threats,” I said. “It’s something else altogether to take action.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling the board. But we gotta advertise somewhere,” he said.
“That’s why I am the answer to your prayers,” I said.
“You?”
“Yes. You advertise with me. I can guarantee The Big Con’s products will be looked after like my own offspring. Prime placement, and guarantees that they will be surrounded by transparent, high quality content. The content only smart people read, and that’s who you want as your customers, right?”
“Smart, dumb, actually doesn’t make much difference to me, so long as they spend,” he said.
“I will give you my word that ads for The Big Con’s soap, diapers and ketchup will never be placed anywhere near controversial content,” I said. “How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like la-la land. Just last week I found our ad for kitty litter next to some video from a Nazi group. The week before a spot for our soap was right there with some violent extremist crap,” he said.
“That will not happen when you advertise with my site,” I said.
“Hard to believe,” he said. “I’m at the point where I buy the ad spots, close my eyes, and hold my nose. I’m terrified to see the garbage that ends up next to our products.”
“You put your ad dollars with me, Sam. My website is high quality. Transparent. Your ads will only be near upstanding, high quality content.”
“How can you be so sure? I mean, who the hell knows what’s really going on with some of these websites? I don’t believe anyone anymore.”
“The trust has been broken,” I said, hoping to drive the wedge in even deeper.
“With a sledgehammer,” Smedley said. “I don’t trust what the big tech guys tell me, and our customers don’t trust us when they see our ads associated with the crap that’s online.”
“That is why my mom-and-pop website is for you.”
“How can I believe you?” he asked.
“Because I can personally vouch for each and every unique visitor I get. They’re fine, upstanding citizens. They vote. Their kids are well-groomed, and their pets well-fed, and vice versa. They don’t frequent any trashy sites.”
“I like it. Except that voting part,” he said.
“Rest assured, they all wrote in candidates last time,” I said.
“This is a highly-educated demographic, isn’t it?”
“Crème de la crème.”
“I’m starting to come around to this,” Smedley said. “You get a lot of traffic?”
“Tens of dozens of unique visitors. All verified as fine, upstanding citizens in search of fine, upstanding content,” I said.
“Hmmm,” he said. “This might work. We can make a big deal of it, put the folks at Unilever on notice. No one gets the jump on Sam Smedley.”
“I can see the headlines. The Big Con makes a big, bold move. Yanks billions in ad dollars from big tech in favor of smaller, focused websites,” I said.
“Hold on now, I don’t know about that billions thing,” Smedley said.
“Millions then,” I said.
“Sold,” Smedley said.
“It’s a great day for The Big Con,” I said.