Sometimes food for thought can come from the least expected quarters. The other week, I watched a fascinating presentation on pricing theory by Greg Classen from TNS. He showed us graphs predicting the percentage of sales a brand could expect to lose depending on the size of a price increase. The more loyal consumers a brand has, the more it can afford to increase its price, because the less likely consumers are to switch to a competitor.
Afterwards we discussed his presentation — he was there at my invitation, and this was the first time he had ever presented to an advertising agency (!) — and he revealed a central, fascinating insight. All relationships, he said, whether they are with a brand or a person, can be characterised according to their performance against four simple measures. These are:
If your needs are not being met by your current brand of washing powder, for example, your commitment to the brand relationship is low, and ambivalence is high, chances are you could be persuaded to change brands — even if your interest in alternatives is low, you may end up switching from Skip, say, to Omo.
Though we might balk at reducing everything to scores that might be mapped on a diagram, in essence the principles are the same for people. Think about your own relationship, if you are in one. Are your needs being met? Are you committed? Or are you ambivalent? Interested, perhaps, in another? Sometimes the only reason many of us do stay in relationships in which our needs are not being met is that there is no viable alternative, or we’re just too comfortable to bother to change — something that a British journalist I read about the other day calls “featherbedding”. (She calls a relationship that forces you to reassess your current, unsatisfactory relationship “vaulting”.)
Having given this some more thought, I then pondered the case of the 4 Cs of segmentation in marketing. Could something similar be applied to human relationships? Something like:
There is a case for a 4 Cs of relationships, I think. If, for example, there is chemistry but little else, you have a recipe for a one-night stand or a relationship based on sex alone. If there is no chemistry, there can be no erotic or romantic love. Compatibility is essential if you are not to strangle one another in sheer frustration; compatibility without chemistry results in friendship. Once the chemistry dies down in a romantic relationship, as is inevitable, there must be companionship, or your old age will be very dull indeed. You can enjoy chemistry, companionship and compatibility, but without commitment, you’re just friends with benefits.
I used to think that humankind was far too complicated to simplify something as complex as interpersonal relationships down to a few alliterative principles. After all, according to a new book, there are 237 reasons that women have sex (not 236. Not 238. 237. Finish and klaar.), which must mean that there are as many reasons or more why women would enter into relationships.
But I suspect that we overcomplicate things. Work our way through the layers of misunderstandings and projections, agendas and issues, and we find that, after all of that, love is a lot like shopping for instant coffee.