Advice for Clueless Brands on Social Media

Dear Bob & Doug:

I am the CEO of a major quick-service chain that serves food and food-like substances to billions worldwide. At our annual meeting last week, I called on a nine-year-old girl, who ambushed me with a screed about our marketing practices. "Something I didn't think is fair is when big companies try to trick kids into eating food that isn't good for them by using toys and cartoon characters … Don't you want kids to be healthy so they can live a long and happy life?"

I was very kind and patient with the little brat. I patiently explained to her that "We don't sell junk food," but the whole thing has blown up on social and legacy media all over the world. What did I do wrong?

—Overwhelmed in Oak Brook

Dear Overwhelmed:

You shouldn't have lied.

Dear Bob & Doug:

I am the jowly mayor of a major North American city in the land of beavers, maple trees and single-payer healthcare. Recently, the website Gawker claimed to have seen me in a cellphone video smoking crack cocaine with a number of other gentlemen. The good news is these folks were African-Canadians, which would prove I am not as tone-deaf about diversity as my critics charge. The bad news is the potentially negative effect on my political career: being the Marion Barry of the Frozen North. Now Gawker has raised almost $200,000 in a "Crackstarter" campaign to purchase the video from the miscreants who claim to possess it.

I have fired my chief of staff for being a disruptive influence, but I can't believe the Internet is actually ganging up to buy a cellphone video from an extortionist.

—Crackmailed in Canada

Dear Crackmailed:

The Internet is nothing more than a connected crowd, and that crowd can do many things. What you describe is called "crowdfunding." Such outfits as Kickstarter seek contributions from individuals to provide seed money for everything from business startups to games to Hollywood movies. The purchase of incriminating evidence is a largely unexplored category. Another relatively untapped vein of Kickstarter financing, though with a proud legacy in the analog world, is "defense fund." You may wish to look into that.

Dear Bob & Doug:

You may remember I wrote recently after an old quote of mine was drug out of obscurity and used against me in social media. It was about our youthful-apparel chain not stocking plus sizes, because then fat chicks would be walking advertisements for exactly the opposite body type we feature in our tens of millions of dollars of soft-porn ads every year. OK, so I apologized, but now our first-quarter financials are in and we lost another $7 million, our sales were down 17% and an online petition against me got 70,000 signatures in, like, three days. And kids are donating our stuff to the homeless. Can I survive all this?

—Mystified in the Mall

Dear Mystified:

Fat chance.

Dear Bob & Doug:

I am a Canadian mom and a nutrition activist who has long targeted the major fast food chains about the high quantities of fat, sodium and sugar in their products and their cynical marketing ploys to lure young children into their web. Recently at the annual meeting of my golden-arch nemesis, my nine-year-old daughter bravely stood up and confronted the chain's CEO about healthy food. This episode garnered headlines worldwide, yet much of the online commentary has actually criticized my daughter for her heroic and articulate broadside against Big Junk. How could they be so cruel?

—Blindsided in British Columbia

Dear Blindsided:

You misread the comment threads. The writers weren't criticizing your daughter. They were taking pity on her. They can't imagine who would use their grade-schooler as a prop and mouthpiece for their own adult sociopolitical agenda. They think it is perverse, selfish, cynical, dishonest and just this side of abusive. If you like happy kids, the playground is really fun. If you want a robot, buy a Roomba.

Image via iStockphoto, ARTPUPPY