It was an innocent enough question, I thought.

Do people you run across seem to know about the station?  The lady hired to drive the station van around the city all day long responded, “No.  They think I’m selling fish.”

We’re consumed with ourselves.  Everyone we know knows our station. “The Curse of Knowledge” puts us in a position where we can’t even comprehend what it is like to NOT know what we know.  It’s that “imagine the world without the color blue” thing.  We can’t.

“Almost no one visits your restaurant, almost no one buys your bestselling book, almost no one watches the Tonight Show…

We think we’re designing and selling to everyone, but that doesn’t match reality…

Growth comes from person-to-person communication, from the powerful standards of ‘people like us.’  And it comes from activating people who are ready to be activated.”
~Seth Godin

I know of a radio station that achieved an historic #1 ranking in Women 25-54 in part by an influx of quarter hours from new people in the ratings panel.  Those weren’t new listeners mind you, they were just new panelists.  In other words, they weren’t listeners that we manipulated, they were already fans ready to be activated.  And they were fans for a reason.  They were fans because that station mattered to them.

We can’t adjust our tactics in an effort to manipulate our listeners into changing their lifestyle for one more quarter hour.  They don’t even know what a quarter hour is, AND they think we’re selling fish.

You can’t manipulate your way to number one.  There are no short cuts.

You have to do things that matter.

It caught my eye.  That silver convertible with the gizmo that makes the top disappear into the trunk.  Kinda cool, thought a certain mid-life crisis male.

Then I saw a blue one of the same model, then a red one a few days later, then another silver one just like it.  All of a sudden I was seeing them everywhere.  They weren’t relevant until they were.

My friend Eddie needed to get a passport photo for a sudden trip.  He went online and found a place way on the other side of town.  It was quite a drive but he was running out of time.

On his way back to his house he drove past the small shopping center near his house.  He happened to look over and saw the sign in the window of the Merle’s Camera Shop that read, “Passport photos here.”  It had been there all the time but he hadn’t noticed.  It wasn’t relevant… until it was.

“It’s funny how our minds are attuned to filter out almost everything except what’s relevant to us.  We can be in a crowded ballroom buzzing with people and still hear our own name.  It gets our attention and pulls us in.

It’s a good lesson for radio talent.  If you’re talking about what’s relevant to the listener, you’ll draw them in.  If you’re talking about what’s irrelevant to the listener they’ll never hear you at all.  That’s why there are so few true personalities, they’re too busy talking about what’s trending instead of what they have in common with the listener.”
~Alan Mason

Here’s the problem.  Every programmer and air talent nod their heads in agreement that their radio station should be relevant, all the while airing another ubiquitous Impossible Question (“Belly button lint originated in which remote tribal village in the Amazon?”), another traffic report about traffic I’m not in, or another tidbit about what celebrity said what at the Grammy’s/Oscars/Golden Globes.

We throw a bunch of stuff at the wall without using the precise filter of relevance.

Start with the listener and work back.  What does she care about RIGHT NOW?

Take it from Merle.  It’s not relevant until it is.

We can all remember the first time someone said, “I love you.”  (We can also painfully remember each time someone didn’t).

We are created to be known.  From the early playground experiences of “mommy, mommy, look at me,” to the moment you discovered the pretty girl knew your name.

“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial.  To be known and not loved is our greatest fear.  But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God.  It is what we need more than anything.”
~Timothy Keller

Being known means we’re valued, seen as special.  Being known validates who were are, that we have worth.

Hallmark knows this.

Valentine’s Day cards are even grouped into “known” sections labeled “For my husband,” “For my wife,” “For my daughter… son…”

When we can get past the radio stuff perhaps we’ll discover that our format, at the highest “self-transcendence” level, is about being known.  Maybe people don’t tune to our format because of what we are, maybe they do because of who they are.

What if this Valentine’s Day programming lesson taught us that… instead of focusing on all the radio stuff listeners don’t really care about, we focused on affirming our listeners in the most important aspects of their lives.

Known for being a good mom.

Known for being a good kid.*

A good husband.  A good neighbor.  A good friend.

(*That’s what Family Name Game™ is all about).

“I’m pretty sure we never outgrow the need to be reassured, to be reminded we matter enough for someone to be there for us.  In fact, the older we get (the more we’ve been rejected, disappointed, abandoned and deserted), the more we long for someone, anyone, to do what they said they’d do, keep faith with us and honestly care about our well-being.

People remember when you catch them and when you don’t.”
~Mark Beeson