The isolation effect

This is the second in a series of posts that share observations and recommendations based on our ongoing experiences in the brandscape. Please, cherry pick what you will. We offer these as a way to keep the conversation going.

The Isolation Effect (aka the Von Restorff Effect) emerged as part of research done in the Netherlands in 1933 and then reinforced in the 70's. Essentially, it's a fascinating principle that shows that when multiple similar objects are present, the one that differs from the rest is most likely to be recalled.

This principle may seem obvious, but it is often overlooked in branding and marketing, where a "me too" scramble can often make competitors nearly indistinguishable. It also requires courage, as departing from the norm in order to gain differentiation always carries a measure of risk. And for small businesses – all businesses for that matter – risk can be terrifying.

I remember flipping through a car magazine years ago. An article in it was reviewing several competitive options within a particular category of car (as they so often do). The culmination of the article included a spreadsheet of sorts that itemized the different options and features of each competitor. In the first column was a small image of the car in question, for easy visual reference for the reader.

But here was the problem. As I scanned the spreadsheet, the visual similarities between each competitor were remarkable. In fact, I felt that I could scramble the images relative to the associated text and barely tell the difference – at least with respect to design.

Car manufacturing is an incredibly risky business. While the brands behind each car are huge conglomerates, the dangers of misstep are equally large. It's easy to see how a pack mentality might emerge as each company designs its entry into a particular market. The stories of outliers and fabulous fails are the stuff of legend. The Pontiac Aztek comes to mind.

But equally legendary are examples like the Jeep Cherokee, a vehicle that redefined its category and ushered in an enduring trend of small SUV sales that continues today. Its designers did so by reviewing the key competitors of the time like the Ford Bronco, International Scout, and Jeep's own Wrangler – and doing something completely different. Where these entries were certainly rugged and capable, they drove like farm equipment. The Cherokee was designed to feel like a car, while still commanding most terrains.

I don't mean to dwell on automotive examples so much. I'm not even a car enthusiast. My intent is to leverage how deeply integrated the automotive industry is into the common cultural experience.

Here's another wildly creative example that veers away from the auto paradigm. It's also a little easier to imagine for the average entrepreneur. The company is Johnny's Cupcakes. Except he doesn't sell cupcakes. Founded as a clothing brand by Johnny Earle in 2001, it markets itself as the World's First T-Shirt Bakery. Using cupcakes as a prominent design motif in all of its merchandise, the brand arranges stores as if they're actual bakeries, using cooling racks and doughnut cases to display merchandise. The shirts are packaged in bakery boxes when the customer checks out, and the interiors are scented with the smell of fresh baked bread (by placing air-fresheners by the heat vents).

Can you see the differentiation? It's fair to point out that Johnny's Cupcakes operates in a niche market, but the business stands alone simply by virtue of the brand story it tells. Their shirts will not be blending in. Is it a fashion industry fad that will fade once the next shiny thing comes into view? It seems unlikely, given that the brand now has a 20 year life span. By now, Johnny’s Cupcakes has its own tribe of “true fans” as described by Kevin Kelly of Wired Magazine.

What's the moral of the story? What does The Isolation Effect teach us? Pursuing distinction from your competitors is essential to survival in an increasingly crowded marketplace. It's risky, but so is blending into the crowd.

Image courtesy of Rupert Britton on Unsplash