November 2008 Entries

Search Behavior: I Know What I Want, But Not Where to Find It.

Last week I looked at search behaviors when we knew what we were looking for and where to find it (http://www.mediapost.com/blogs/search_insider/?p=832). This week we'll look at what happens when you know what you're looking for -- but you're not sure where to find it.

Judging a Patch By its Scent

In the first instance, when you know what you're looking for and where to find it, you have defined your patch and you have a pretty good idea what route to take to find your specific piece of information. In the second instance, you don't know in which patch you'll find the piece of information. This is where classic way-finding behaviors and information scent can play a critical role in seeking information.

When you're not sure which information patch contains the right information, you have to judge each patch by its relative "scent." This pretty much guarantees you'll visit more than one patch, which for our purposes translates to Web sites. You'll try to do a preliminary assessment of scent based on what you see on the results page, but you'll reserve most of your judgment for when you click through to the site.

Looking for Greener Grass

One of the interesting aspects of optimal foraging for food is that there are costs to move from patch to patch. You have to literally assess whether the grass is truly greener on the other side of the fence, or whether it would just be a senseless waste of effort. Most animals have a highly developed heuristic instinct about when the time is right to move on to the next patch. Biologist Eric Charnov, who reached out to me (I'm still following up with Eric to get a follow-up interview for a future column) after my original information-foraging column, called it the  Marginal Value Theorem. In a nutshell, Charnov's Theorem says that we decide how long to stay in a patch based on how rich the current patch is and how distant the next patch is.

One of the challenges of the Marginal Value Theorem is that we often have no way of knowing what the "richness" of the next patch might be until we commit to expending the energy to go see it. We risk the effort based on our assessment of the current patch and the hope that better patches lie ahead. And the risk lies in the fact that it takes energy to move from patch to patch. The degree of risk lies in the distance to the next patch, our expectation of the richness of that patch and the value of the patch we're currently in.

Patch Hopping with Search

But online, the Internet is non-dimensional in the traditional sense. There is no distance; the only dimension is time. How much time are we willing to expend to find the next patch? And search gives us the ability to greatly reduce the time needed to navigate from patch to patch. We structure queries to define the "diet" we hope to find in each patch. We then can click through to see if the scent matches our definition of diet.

Remember, time is the resource we hope to conserve, so these explorations from the search page are very quick. We can visit a number of patches in seconds. We define the diet (what we're looking for) and start down the page visiting the most promising patches. Based on user research we've done at Enquiro, searchers typically take 10 to 12 seconds for the first click from the search results page, and spend about 15 seconds assessing the scent on the pages they visit.

Because we are programmed to save effort, if we visit a few patches and come up short, we'll use a new query to define a new collection of patches. Because we have no defined notion of which patch will be the right one, we have to use shortcuts to judge each patch quickly and efficiently. We have little patience for unpromising patches.

Of course, our level of patience is also determined by how rare the prey is we're pursuing. If we believe it should be rather plentiful, we also believe the scent should be easy to pick up. But if our prey is elusive, we'll be more patient in our quest to pick up its scent. Those are the searches that will drive us to the second or third page of results.

We Don't Consume Information

If we find a rich patch, we file it away for future consideration. This is another area where information foraging diverges from biological foraging. Looking for food is a zero-sum game. If we don't eat the food we find, someone else will. So when we find a rich patch, we stay put until we eat as much as we can (or until a richer patch beckons).

But online, information is not really consumed. Even if we use it, it's still there for the next visitor. There's no risk to move on and find other information patches. This is where traditional way-finding strategies come in. As we explore for information, we define the landscape based on the richest information patches. These become landmarks which we return to again and again. So we quickly use search to define the best patches and tag them for future reference. Then, we return to them at our leisure, knowing the information will still be there, waiting for us.

Next week, we'll looking at the third state of information-seeking -- where we don't know what we're looking for or where to find it -- and how this impacts our search behavior.

Search Behavior: I Know Just What I'm Looking For

We seek information to fill gaps in our existing knowledge. The extent of that current knowledge and how we've structured it will play a large part in determining intent. It will help shape our knowledge requirements, our strategies for retrieval and how we will evaluate information scent. As stated in my previous two columns, we're generally in one of three states when we turn online for information; we know what we're looking for and where to find it; we know what we're looking for, but not where to find it; or, we don't know what we're looking for or where to find it. Today, I want to explore intent in the first of these states: We Know What We're Looking For -- and Where to Find It

 

In the first case, we have a solid idea of the information we're looking for. Our mental representation has a defined structure and we have a good idea of what the missing piece looks like. For example, we're looking for a phone number, an address or another missing detail. Because the structure of the information in our minds is almost complete, we have a similarly clear cut idea of where we're most likely to find the information. We know the right "patch" to look in and where to find the information in the "patch." In this case, we're looking for the simplest route from point A to point B.

Googling Google on Google

One of the ongoing anomalies in search is the number of people who go to their favorite engine to search for proper domain names. Some of the most popular queries on every engine are the URLs of their competitors. People search for Yahoo.com on Live Search, or Google.com on Yahoo. People even search for Google on Google. In looking at the query logs, the only explanation seems to be mass stupidity. But in actual fact, this is foraging playing itself out. We habitually use engines to navigate the Web, so even when we know the Web site, why should our behavior be any different? (This still doesn't explain the searching for Google on Google. Perhaps stupidity is the right answer here.)

Let's say you're looking for the address of the head office for a corporation. You know it will be on their site somewhere, and you have a pretty good idea it will be somewhere within the "about us" section. Rather than go directly to the site and navigate through it, you choose to search for "Company X head office address." Or, even more likely, you just search for "Company X," knowing that the official site will come up high in the results.

Pre-Mapping the Search Results Page

In this case, before the results page even loads, you know exactly what you're looking for and where you're likely to find it. If you're searching on Google, it's likely that you'll get an extended result in the number one organic spot with Site Links to key parts of the site. This is a great match for your expected information scent. Previous to this introduction by Google, we saw that for navigational searches where we knew the destination we were looking for, there was a higher degree of scanning of the site URL at the bottom of the result listing. Normally there's not much interaction with this part of the listing.

In this first category, we look at search as a tool, the quickest possible route to the information we know exists. We will quickly zero in on the only relevant information on the results page, the listing for the site we're looking for. Now, the question for marketers is, what happens when there's both an organic and sponsored listing for the same site on the same page? Will one cannibalize the other? While we've never tested for this specific intent, I can speculate based on what we've seen in other research.

Habitual Scanning Behaviors

In one study, we split our group in half, giving one a purchase-type task and the other an information-gathering task. In both cases, we looked at scan patterns in the top sponsored and organic results. We expected to see our information-gathering group relocate their scanning down to the organic results. But this didn't happen. What we realized is that we scan the search page out of habit. We're not rationally optimizing our scan path based on intent. We're following the same pattern we always do, the top to bottom, left to right, F-shaped pattern that's common across all users. That behavior is conditioned and engrained. It's been etched at the sub-cortical level of our brain in our basal ganglia and executes subconsciously (see Ann Graybiel's work  on this for more). But what does change is how we respond to the information scent cues on the page.

Although scanning followed the same pattern for both groups (in fact, the interaction was even higher with sponsored listings for the information-gathering group, likely because they weren't exactly sure what they were looking for and so were in a more deliberate mode) the click patterns were significantly different. The official site that marked the successful destination in the scenario was in both the top organic and sponsored location. In the commercial task, the clicks split almost 50/50, with half happening in the sponsored listings, and half in the organic listings. But in the information-gathering group, all the clicks happened in the organic listing. Based on our preconceived idea of the information we were seeking, that particular "patch" seemed more promising.

Next column, we'll look at intent and how it impacts search behavior when we know what we're looking for, but not where to find it.

Foraging for Information with Search

In my last column, we looked at berrypicking as an analogy for gathering information. The theory was put forward in 1989 by Marcia Bates. Then, in 1995, two researchers found even more inherent behaviors demonstrated in the way we seek information. It turns out that we may literally hunt for information.

The Genetic Case for Searching

We didn't come equipped with an inherent strategy to pull information from a Web search results page. There is no genetic coding specific to Google. But as two researchers at Xerox's PARC research facility, Peter Pirolli and Stuart Card, really started to explore how humans navigated online environments looking for information in 1995, they found something fascinating. They found that the way we seek information online is very similar to an activity that is as old as evolution itself: the hunt for food. Pirolli and Card called this the information foraging theory.

The basic principle behind information foraging is not so much about gathering the maximum amount of information, but rather in maximizing our time and efforts in pursuit of the right information. This goes to the human knack for conserving our resources in pursuit of our objectives.

The Easiest Route to Information

We must remember that any interaction with a search engine is part of a much broader range of activity that will hopefully result in achieving a large objective that is aligned with a human drive: learning, bonding, acquiring or defending (Nohria/Lawrence ). We take these macro objectives and break them up into distinct tasks and allocate resources against those tasks based on the expected usefulness of the outcome. This is where the food-gathering analogy provides some useful perspective.

We eat food to survive. Food is the fuel that powers our activities. In the stripped-down logic of evolutionary survival, it doesn't make sense to expend more energy in the pursuit of food than the food itself contains. We would starve and die. So we have become remarkably effective at finding food in the easiest way possible. The big objective of the pursuit of food and survival is broken down into discrete tasks or actions, and we instinctively determine how much time and effort to spend on each of these tasks or actions depending on how much closer it will get us to the objective: our next meal. There is a cascading series of risk/reward decisions and mental trade offs happening below the level of our rational awareness. Our evolutionary programs play themselves out subconsciously.

Born Foragers

While seeking information is a more abstract concept than finding food, Pirolli and Card argue that the same inherent skills are used, including the same trade-off decisions. In evolutionary terms, our information-seeking skills are an adaptation of our food-gathering skills. Each time we seek information, we "hunt" for it and make decisions about how much cognitive energy we want to expend in the pursuit and the optimum strategy for gathering the information. We forage for information.

This explains much of the typical behavior we see with online properties, especially search. We quickly seek and filter through information, using our heuristic guidelines and trade-offs.

And when we look at our use of search engines, there are two important concepts put forward by Pirolli and Card that must be considered: the importance of information patches and diets.

The Right Patch and The Right Diet

As we seek information, the same as seeking food, we will spend our time where the promise of successful pursuit is the greatest, based on clues or telltale hints we encounter. We look for the best information "patch," which is determined by information "scent," the smell of informational relevance. The greater the scent, the greater the promise of an abundant information patch.

Search engines give us the ability to create our own patches, somewhat like a spider spinning a web to catch prey. We see what we catch based on the scent, and if we don't like what we see, we quickly spin another web with another query. There is almost no effort expended in the process, so we have little patience if we're not presented with adequate scent. This is why so much time is spent scanning the top of the page. I call it the area of greatest promise, that tiny yet critical patch of real estate in the extreme upper left corner of the search page, where we expect the strongest scent, figuratively. We judge the value of the whole patch based on what we see in the first few words in the first few listings on the page. If we don't find strong scent, we start questioning the value of the patch.

But we also have to make a determination of which information we include in our diet. Remember, it makes no evolutionary sense (assuming we're using the same mechanisms we use for foraging food) to expend energy pursing food that doesn't return an equal or greater return on our investment. So we will quickly filter out low-quality information. In fact, if we think a patch contains only low-quality information, we'll exclude it from our diet.

Search has been remarkably successful in becoming the preferred "patch" for a diverse set of information needs, but it still comes up short in one particular category. It doesn't do very well at helping us find information when we don't have a clear idea of what we're looking for. Search is still rather ineffective as a "discovery" engine. But despite its limitations in this area, we have still been increasingly conditioned to turn to search when we forage for information because of its remarkable efficiency.

Digging Googlized Brains: Front Page Stuff!

In my Just Behave column last week, I looked at the recent UCLA fMRI study on brain activity during online searching. I also looped this back to Nicholas Carr's article from the summer, Is Google Making Us Stupid? and a few of my other posts on how cognition plays out when we search and potential neural remapping. All pretty geeky stuff right?

Well, it seems that putting the words "Google" and "brain" in the same title hit a nerve with readers. Somehow I made the front page of Digg (my first time) and Danny Sullivan fired me an email saying the story had 18,000 views in one day, making it one of the most read Search Engine Land articles ever. I know I find this stuff fascinating, but it's good to know others do as well. Here was one of the Digg comments:

First off, this is the most interesting article I've seen on the front page of Digg in a good while. It doesn't say that Jesus doesn't exist nor does it compare Jesus to Obama. It's about a revolutionary scientific study and it made it to the front page of Digg. WOW!

The column seems to have found it's way onto a ton of blogs, but just in case you didn't see it in any of your other feeds, thought I'd do a quick post. Feel free to continue to Digg it. I have to admit, now that I made the front page once..it's getting a little addictive!

Berrypicking Your Way Through Search

In the last three columns, I explored the fundamentals of humans seeking information. To refresh your memory, the purpose of this series is to explore the importance of branding on the search page. Taking several steps back to begin my run at this topic (and risking a series that is "long and extremely wind baggy," in the words of one reader), we're now starting to get at some of the important concepts to understand how we interact with a search results page.

Bates and Berrypicking

In 1989, Marcia Bates took a fresh look   at the classic model of information retrieval that had dominated for the previous 25 years. The model was a fairly straight equation, with on one side a collection of documents and how the contents of those documents were represented, and the seeker's information need and the query they constructed to express that need on the other side. In the middle was the desired outcome, the match of query and document representation. Bates found this admirably simple equation didn't hold up too well in real-world search situations, especially given the advances in information technology.

The problem with the classic model was that it assumed that the successful search for information was a relatively static event, where one search and retrieval strategy took you eventually to the desired information. Even if you took into account feedback and iterative query refinement, it still looked at the process as a continual and linear one, with incremental progress towards a constant goal. In looking at actual behavior, Bates found that the process was more complex. As we pursued the information we thought we wanted, she found the path was less a straight line and more a looping and meandering path. In fact, it reminded her of picking huckleberries, hence the title of her theory, berrypicking.

Meandering through the Web

Bates found that as we start down the path to the information we seek, we pick up bits of information a little at a time, like picking berries. What's more, as we pick the berries, we may head off in different directions depending on the information we gather. We follow the berries to more promising clusters of berries, or "patches." We don't just refine our queries, we change search and retrieval strategies, the places where we think we'll find information (our "patches") and, in the more extreme cases, our ultimate destination. Search is an evolving behavior, not a linear one.

Bates looked at 6 different strategies that academics use to search for information: footnote chasing (backwards chaining from articles of reference, tracking back footnotes); citation searching (forward chaining, using a citation index to jump forward); journal run (using authoritative journals on a subject and going through the entire run); area scanning (using the physical location of a subject in a library on the assumption that relevant materials will be in the same location); abstracting and indexing searches (using organized bibliographies and indexes, usually arranged by subject area); and author searching. At the time of her paper (1989), Web search was still unknown. The first search engine (Archie) would be created in 1990 at McGill University. But as you look at the six methods outlined, it's clear that Web search lets you do any and all of them.

The Web: The Ultimate Berry Patch

Bates theorized that berrypicking would play out in different environments and you would change strategies as you went from environment to environment. The timeline could be days, weeks or even months. But with the Web and search, you could go from strategy to strategy in seconds, berrypicking your way through the Web. What's more, you could be diverted from your original path through a serendipitous display of information that catches your attention. For example, you could be footnote chasing (i.e., the source link for a snippet of a review on one page) which leads you to launch a search for other reviews. There you see results for a magazine dedicated to the topic (an example of journal run), a link for other consumer reviews (citation searching) and a book title written by an authority on the subject (author searching). You've just used all six of the strategies outlined by Bates in one session, as you used abstracting and indexing (this is ultimately what a search engine is) and area scanning (in this case the physical collocation is defined by the search page real estate).

When it comes to the impact of branding on search, it's important to understand Bate's berrypicking model. Any search result could represent a "berry" that could lead us to an entirely new patch. Our search path could evolve in a totally new direction based on what we pick from a page. We can be introduced to brands or have them reinforced as we berrypick our way along.

In the next column, we'll continue to redefine information retrieval by looking at the Information Foraging theory.

The Quest for Information

The third in my series in looking at how we search and how it might impact our brand relationships. Today, I look at how the emergence of Web search marks a dramatic leap forward in our quest for information.

The Great Library of Alexandria, built in 300 BC, was designed to hold all the knowledge of man. The dream of Ptolemy II was to assemble all the scrolls of the world in one place. Last week we explored why we sought knowledge. The Ptolemaic library was the first attempt to create one single repository for that information. Unfortunately, the media for recording knowledge was papyrus, which proved to be unpredictably flammable. The library burned not once but several times.

One of the challenges of seeking information is that it tends to be spread out and difficult to access. As we saw last week, when we seek information, we tend to either know what it is and where to get it, know what it is but not where it is, or, most challengingly, we don’t even know what it is we’re looking for.

Organizing the World’s Information

Google’s quest, picking up where Ptolemy left off, was to organize the world’s information. This is the big hairy audacious goal of all big hairy audacious goals. It’s never been accomplished before in the history of man. But Google is betting that it can be done thanks to the migration of information to a digital format.

In seeking information, humans will take the path of least resistance. This is not to say humans are inherently lazy. Like many things that come from evolutionary psychology, we have a tendency to reduce human behaviors to overly simplified maxims — and the inherent laziness of humans is one such oversimplification. It is true, however, than humans are inherently thrifty with our energy expenditures. Harvard professors Paul R. Lawrence and Nitin Nohria, in their book “Driven: How Human Nature Shapes our Choices,” theorize that humans are driven by four basic drives: The drive to acquire, the drive to bond, the drive to learn and the drive to defend. As we pursue these drives, we constantly balance effort vs. rewards. We will pursue the things important to us, but we will generally find the easiest means to our ends. This is particularly true of intellectual effort, where many cognitive short cuts are prewired and are triggered without our conscious awareness.

The Irresistible Lure of Web Search

This is why search has become such a  fundamental human activity. The aggregation of information that sits just a few keystrokes away is a tremendously engaging prospect for us energy-efficient humans. We will take the easiest path to retrieve the information and do it in a brutally efficient way. Search interfaces have to be intuitive and sparse. The more complicated the task, the less attractive it is to us. This is why search tools that ask us to do any more than type in the bare minimum of keywords will ultimately fail if there’s an easier choice. And this is why Google has become a habit for us.

But what about intent? Different types of searches may require different interfaces and treatment of results. Again, we make expenditure/reward calculations at an instinctive level based on our experience and knowledge. We decide which actions will be most likely to yield the information we seek. As you explore human nature, one of the most striking discoveries is just how sophisticated our subconscious energy conservation mechanisms are. Habits, emotions, instincts and other non-rational drivers guide us to make split-second decisions that should provide the best results with the least effort, and they are usually remarkably accurate. They have been field-tested and encoded into our genes by natural selection for generation after generation.

Picking the Right Path to Information

There’s another factor at play here, our level of confidence that past behaviors will continue to yield satisfactory results in the future. And this is part of a largely subconscious decision process when we chose the path to the information we seek.

Remember, when we seek information, we fit into one of three categories: we know what we’re looking for and where to find it, we know what we’re looking for but don’t know where to find it, or we don’t know what we’re looking for or where to find it.

Search engines fit the first two categories quite nicely. The first category leads to the huge volume of navigational search we see online, where we’re looking at search to connect us to the right page on the right site. And the second category gives us the more typical search behavior, where we tell the engine what we’re looking for and it provides it suggestions of the best place to find it.

It’s the third category where search engines struggle. When we don’t know what we’re looking for or where to find it, it’s difficult to find the words for our query. It’s in this category where search engines are trying to break new ground, by becoming discovery engines.

So, how has evolution equipped us to look for information? In the next column, I’ll look at information foraging, information scent and berry picking.

Why Do We Search

This is the second in a series exploring the question of how we interact with search pages and the impact on brand relationships. Today we look at why we search in the first place.

Let’s begin with perhaps the most fundamental question ever asked in this industry. Why do we search? I’ve been in this industry for over 12 years now, and I’m not sure I’ve ever heard an answer to it. Why do we seek information? Is this need cultural or inherited? Is how we seek information changing?

 

The Roots of Curiosity

We search because we are curious. And curiosity comes from chaos. Curiosity allows us to survive in a dynamic and unstable environment. The more things change, the greater our curiosity. It keeps us alert and looking for the knowledge we need to survive. So the drive to be curious is inherited, but the degree of curiosity is cultural. Our environment determines how curious we are. If nothing changed, we wouldn’t need curiosity. So it’s probably not coincidental that for some of us, curiosity declines as we age. We seek more stable environments. Our need to monitor and adapt to our environment decreases, and with it, our need to learn.

We seek information for many reasons. Remember, almost every action we take is driven by emotion, but there is usually a rational justification that accompanies it. Our emotions and our reason work together to pick the best possible path for us. Antonio Damasio has done extensive research in this area, referring to our emotional cues, our gut instincts, as “somatic markers.” Rational thought needs information, and information, in turn, feeds our emotions. Information is essential grist for our curiosity mill.

Essential Information

 

Information is key in everything we do. Either we have this information stored in our brains–allowing us to conduct the task in question or function normally–or we don’t, causing us to seek it. The problem in seeking information is not one of quantity, it’s one of quality. There has never been more information available, but it can be difficult finding the right information. In our culture, a huge part of our cognitive effort is spent filtering out the onslaught of information that bombards us every day. No culture in history has been surrounded by more information than our present one, and it’s expanding exponentially.

Sometimes our need for information is purely rational. We need information to complete a task (looking up a phone number, referring to a map, reading directions) or to learn something new. Sometimes our need for information is less clear-cut, tied in with the social machinations that make us human. Remember, gossip is a glue that binds our society, and gossip is nothing more than the gathering and sharing of personal information. So our information-seeking is often tied to an incredibly complex concept of social structure and status. Sometimes we seek information because we need it. Sometimes we seek information just because we want it. Information is a valuable currency in our society, and it can be one factor in determining social status. Obviously, the information gained from supermarket tabloids and searches for “Britney Spears” is of questionable value–but we, as humans, also have a need for this type of information. Information helps define political structure and alliances, in-groups versus out-groups, elevated status within a group and other purely social functions.

The Easiest Path to Information

 

Our quest for information comes from within and without. As we constantly scan our environment, we find situations we need to respond to. This can trigger a physiological and intellectual chain of events that requires information. We scan our store of information, retrieve what we have and identify what we don’t. Sometimes the need is immediate. We need the information now. Sometimes it’s far off and the information-seeking process is of much longer duration.

If we need to seek information because we don’t have it stored in our memory, most of us will take the easiest path. Our information retrieval habits will vary from person to person, but generally we seek to save energy, so we will take the shortest route to the information. And our path will be dictated by how well we know what we’re looking for. When we seek information, our quest can fall into three different categories: we don’t know what we’re looking for, we know what we’re looking for but don’t know where to find it, or we know what we’re looking for and where to find it. Which path we take to find information depends on where we feel it will be easiest to find the answer. When we talk about information-seeking and the ease of retrieval, the Web–and in particular, Web search–has been the most significant development in the history of man. That’s where we start in the next column.

Bring me the Head of Jerry Yang

In 1974, Sam Peckinpah directed the film Bring Me the head of Alfredo Garcia, the story of a bounty hunter who set out to avenge family dishonor (through rape and abandonment) by bringing back the aforementioned anatomical appendage.

If I were part of the Yahoo! family of shareholders, I'd be having similar thoughts about Jerry Yang. This just in..Yang wants to go back to the table with Steve Ballmer to open up the deal. Of course this time, the price will be a fraction of what was originally offered.

Yang isn't stupid. This is hubris disguised as stupidity, which is worse. Hubris deludes the holder into thinking they know more than they do. It's pride that overcomes rationality, clouds judgement and obscures reality. Effective leaders should know better, they should be able to see through hubris, especially when acting on behalf of shareholders. Yang failed miserably. He has, through hubris, crushed Yahoo! beyond repair. Semel started the decline through his arrogance, Yang simply took it in a new direction. When humble self evaluation was desperately needed, Yahoo! got bravado and blind delusion.

This isn't new for Yahoo! Those goes back to the very cultural foundations of the company. In their glory days, they had a cockiness that makes Google seem positively Uriah Heep-ish (the Copperfield character that was "ever so humble"). But at some point during the past decade, you would have thought that Yang and company would have realized that they were a rapidly fading second place player and would have made the necessary adjustments. Not so. Yahoo! has been suffereing from a massive and chronic case of denial.

Here's the thing. If Microhoo happens (can't see how it won't at this point) it's still going to be a disaster for search. I'll reserve judgement on the Display side of things, but I tend to agree with some opinions saying that Microsoft should get out of the media business. Yahoo deal or not, Microsoft doesn't have the culture to build a successful media business. But let's just talk about search. If Yahoo! is cocky, Microsoft is ten times so. Microsoft just doesn't know how to play catch up. This, as I said when people started talking about the original Microhoo deal, is two dysfunctional families joining together. It will distract Microsoft from what they need to do, which is become truly innovative and disruptive in redefining search. They'll think they bought breathing room. They're wrong. Yahoo's search business is obsolete and bleeding market share quickly. And the enormous task of integrating two cultures under the given circumstances will sink both ships. There can be no good that comes from this.

Which is sad. At this point, the only hope for search is Google and some amazing start up somewhere. The mighty haven't fallen yet, but their shoelaces are tied together in what is essentially a sprint, so it's only a matter of time.

Democracy Changed on November 4th

Even as a Canadian, I was amazed by what happened the night of November 4th.

Obviously, every journalist and pundit will be falling over themselves talking about the historic implications of this election. Democrats and Republicans alike were gushing and seemed a little speechless about the implications of Obama in the White House. I have my own feelings but that’s not what this column is about. For me, this election was fundamentally historic for another reason. It changed forever the fabric of democracy in America.

3 years ago, I sat in a hotel conference room somewhere (it might even have been Chicago) and heard Dana Todd, then the President of SEMPO, say that search would be a very important factor in the next election. I smiled to myself, because I had been watching the somewhat ham fisted use of online tactics in the election just finished. “Why”, I thought to myself, “do these candidates fail to understand the fundamental importance of online. Don’t they understand that this provides an amazing new platform for democracy. How could they be so clueless?” The one candidate that did seem to grasp it was Howard Dean, but unfortunately, Dean’s campaign had other challenges that eventually overcame his online momentum.

“But what”, I mused, “would happen if you took the lessons learned from the Dean campaign and fielded a candidate with a campaign that fully ‘got’ the power of virtual connection”. My guess would be that it would be incredibly effective. Even with that, I had no idea how earthshakingly important it would be.

Unknown to me, two people, Jascha Franklin Hodge and Joe Rospars, the architects of the Dean online machine and co founders of Blue State Digital, were already making plans for 2008. The candidate? A junior senator from Illinois who had just rocked the Democratic National Convention with a stirring speech: Barack Obama.

I watched the entire process unfold, and at each step, I was impressed with the grasp of online momentum, its nuances and social connections. With Franklin Hodge and Rospars as architects, and with the help of a very Net savvy staff, Obama’s campaign built an online momentum that shocked Clinton’s handlers in the primaries and eventually rolled over McCain as well. Yes, there were many factors that led to success, not the least of which is the candidate himself, but I can’t help thinking that this campaign managed to crystallize it in a brilliant way online. Obama navigated the currents and eddies of online buzz masterfully, creating mini campaigns of intense interest and passion, mobilizing votes and raising money..lots and lots and lots of money. He (with his campaign architects) understood the fundamental connection of online, reaching many, hearing from many, one at a time. It was a campaign launched and won by we, the people.

On November 19th, 1863, another politician from Illinois gave what was intended to be a few impromptu remarks at the dedication of the Soldier’s National Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  Lincoln finished that speech with these words:

“that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

On Tuesday night, there was a new birth of democracy, the culmination of an election that used a new technology to bridge millions of gaps between Washington and people, to erase decades of division, estrangement and alienation. Yes, it was a brilliant campaign tactic, but it was more than that. It was an understanding that people needed to reconnect with their President and to have their voices heard. It was true democracy. No matter what your political affiliation and your feelings about Obama, the man, you have to feel hopeful that somebody in the White House finally “gets” the Internet and its awesome power to connect and effect change.

Why Google Books is Important..Massive Even!

The announcement that Google has settled a $125 million lawsuit with publishers didn't really get too much press. It also didn't cause too much of a ripple in the blogosphere. But for an avid reader like myself, this is huge.

Much of the press that has happened has settled, predictably, around Google's business motives. What will online browsing mean for publishers, or e-commerce channels like Amazon. Interesting questions, I'll admit, but not nearly as interesting as what the digitization of all this information means for Google's Mission: To organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful.

Before I go into why this is so exciting for me, let me share how I read books. I read every book twice. The first time it's by my bedside and I try to get through a set number of pages every night. The goal is just to enjoy the book. The second reading is going over and making notes, drawing out ideas I find interesting, cross indexing with notes from other books, and expanding on ideas that are sparked by different things that I've read. I keep these notes in an Excel spreadsheet so I can sort, search, filter and manipulate them, based on what I'm trying to do. So, in my own way, I've been doing my own Google books project. Often, other books are referenced and I add them to my reading list. By the way, interesting blog posts and online articles get the same treatment. It's my way of organizing my own little world of information.

What I've found is that there is a disconnect between the printed world and the digital world. When I find an interesting concept that I want to explore further, my options are limited. I can search for a book that might be about the topic, but that's often not granular enough. Some of the best information I've found are a few pages on a topic in a book about a totally different topic. This would never show up in most book searches. For example, the book I'm currently reading is about neuroplasticity (the ability of the mind to remap itself) and, there  buried on pages 240 to 280 is a pretty fascinating look at Quantum mechanics and the implications on the mind/brain debate (I know, I know..but these things are fascinating..to me, anyway). You need full indexing and keyword searchability to find these things.

That's what's fascinating about Google's intentions with book search. This tremendous mountain of information, fully searchable and browsable. It breaks down the current publishing module and makes it more granular, relevant and accessible. It does for publishing what MP3's did for music. And that, potentially, is huge.

Already, the digital revolution has pushed the traditional publishing model to it's limits. Authors release free ebooks. There are blurred boundaries between published books and online commentary. Digital rivers flow past the old traditional channels and there is no stopping it. What Google Books does is finally update and make accessible the incredible back log of information that already out there. For any lover of books, that's big news. And about time.

 

Digging Still Deeper into the Search Branding Question

The follow up column to the previous post. This kicked off the search branding series:

I love debate. I love defending my ideas, and in the process, shaping, refining and sometimes discarding them as they prove to be too unwieldy or simply incorrect. My last two columns have generated a fascinating debate around the concept of branding in search. Fellow Search Insider Aaron Goldman, comScore Chairman Gian Fulgoni, his senior vice president of search and media, James Lamberti, Erik du Plessis, Millward Brown executive and author of  “The Advertised Mind” (fascinating book, by the way), as well as a host of others, have taken up the debating gauntlet on this particular topic.

As luck would have it, we just wrapped up a study with Google in Europe — and data there seems to show that I’m dead wrong about the inability of unclicked search ads to build brand, reinforcing the view of Gian and Aaron (Aaron has his own research, and ours seems to support his findings). We saw brand lift (based on traditional metrics) of anywhere from 5 to 15% on even unclicked ads. And this was with thousands of respondents across four different product categories in three different markets, so I don’t think it’s an anomaly.

The easy thing would have been to toss in the towel and admit I was wrong. But I’m not so sure about that. I’m convinced the neurobiological underpinnings I outlined in my column two weeks ago are sound and that the reasons for the apparent contradictions lie in some aspects of the search interaction and brand recall that I overlooked and the metrics we use to measure them.

But, in looking at this, I realized that this topic lies at the heart of a fundamental and not-yet-explored aspect of search: how does it influence our brand relationships? In one regard, I’m wholly in agreement with Aaron, Gian and James. There’s a tremendous amount of branding value being left on the table with search. Where we differ is in the nature of that value. But that’s not an easy thing to explore. It’s certainly beyond the scope of a single column. So yesterday I sent an email to my MediaPost editor asking if I could use this column over the next several weeks to lay out my hypothesis for how we interact with search. Thankfully, she agreed. So, beginning this week, I’d like to begin unraveling that knot.

In my weekly columns over the next few months I’d like to explore several questions:

Why do we search: This goes to Aaron’s comment that we don’t always search for information about a purchase. And this is absolutely true. We search for many different reasons. I’ll look at what motivates us to search and our mental frame of mind when do so. Is searching a conditioned behavior?

Why we search the way we do: Through all Enquiro’s research, we have found very consistent search patterns. Why do we search the way we do? How do we forage for information? And why is a search engagement “thin,” while a Web site engagement is “thick”?

Why does searching trigger information retrieval, but doesn’t necessarily create new memories: I’ll look at how memory works, specific to the act of searching, and how this differs from other types of advertising.

Why we use search differently at different stages in our purchasing behavior: The way we use search early in the process can be significantly different than the way we use it later. And it’s not the classic search “funnel” you may think.

Why the traditional brand metrics used are not accurate measures of likelihood to purchase, especially when applied to a search interaction.

Why search can be the most important brand tool in a marketer’s arsenal, if it’s used in the right place. It’s a matter of understanding what search can do and what it can’t. And, even more importantly, understanding how to measure that value.

And finally, will the changing nature of search change the way it acts as a branding strategy?

In this process I hope to provide supporting research where I can (there’s little empirical research in this area). I’ll also be reaching out to others, including my debating partners, to capture their views as well. And, as always, I invite you all to join the conversation.

 

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