By Staff
Flying back from a business trip to Alabama last week, I started thinking about what Billy Mays meant to the world. Yes, the world, not just the marketing industry.
Sure, at first glance, he was just a celebrity pitchman whose products you either found useful or dismissed as junk. I personally only ever bought one product that Billy Mays pitched, OxiClean, and found it was pretty good.
But Billy Mays represented the great ideals of free market economics, and subtly (and perhaps without knowing it) helped teach future generations about some very important principles.
I was an insomniac in college, sleeping for as little as two or three hours a night for weeks on end. Wide awake at all hours of the night, I would turn on my TV and watch infomercials. At first it was because I was genuinely interested in the products – after all, who wouldn't want to get rock-hard abs just by wearing a belt that sends electronic pulses into your stomach? – then it became something of a lark because I could begin to guess what was going to happen next. They just finished the second transformation testimonial, so now they're going to hop into "What would you pay," I'd tell myself – and most of the time I would be right.
Let's think about the standard formula of a standard 30-minute infomercial or 2-minute direct response television ad: Simple problem that most people encounter is presented (Is weeding your garden giving you back pain? Are you tired of bugs thriving on YOUR vegetables?), traditional solutions to simple problem are dissed (You could spend all day weeding and feeding your garden, but then you'd have to quit your job), product is introduced for first time (of at least three times), usually with a glowing star behind it or in a perfectly lit situational use.
Then the infomercial launches into the sales pitch: This product solves your problem better than what's on the current market and, if it's a 30-minute infomercial, here are at least three people who swear by it. This product is so good that you'll throw away old solutions and rely on it solely. In fact, it's so good, and we're such nice people, that we're going to let you pay for it in easy monthly installments. But if you call now, we're also going to throw in another product that solves another problem you're likely having absolutely free, just pay separate shipping and processing.
It's a classic AIDA sales pitch: attention, interest, desire, action. Attention: You have a problem that you probably didn't even know about. Interest: We have a solution for this problem. Desire: It's so cheap, your want outweighs the $19.95 cost. Action: Call now (and to really drive the action function home, we'll throw in something for free to even further alleviate your risk).
I liked Billy Mays because his celebrity meant more people paid attention to direct response television ads. Why is that important? Because understanding the functions of selling – even subconsciously – makes people in every walk of life better at what they do. Going to a job interview? You need to sell. Going on a first date? You need to sell. Trying to accomplish better communication with your coworkers? You need to sell. Sales isn't just for creating more wealth for a salesperson and their company, it's for creating a better society. If we were all just a little bit better at what we do, the world would be a happier, more productive place.
In watching the Discovery Channel's tribute to Billy Mays on Thursday night (he and fellow pitchman Anthony Sullivan hosted the show "Pitchmen" on that channel), I was struck by Mays' passion for his work and the success he brought to the small business owners who came up with the bulk of the products he pitched. He was in it for the little guy.
The great thing about a truly free market economy is that any business, no matter how large or small, can become a player in the market if their ideas and products are better than the competition. With the inexpensive nature and pitch-perfect formula of direct-response ads, the format that Mays popularized made once-small businesses billions of dollars.
When I first heard that Billy Mays had died, I was sitting in our living room on that Sunday morning watching TV. My fianc/e read the news online and told me. At first I was skeptical – after all, immediately following Michael Jackson's death, there were unfounded rumors of Jeff Goldblum and Harrison Ford dying. A friend on Facebook put it perfectly: Celebrity deaths usually come in threes. Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson -leave it to Billy Mays to throw in one for free.
Another commenter on Twitter summed it in another great fashion: "Life's a pitch, and then you buy."