They sell deep-fried chicken to raise money to cure breast cancer. They sue other nonprofits that use “for the cure” in any variation in their name. Now, they’re flexing their muscle and shutting off the funding to Planned Parenthood.

For Komen, it’s just another day being a big, arrogant SOB that has swallowed too much of its own public relations and is drunk with power and eager to show its fight.

Part of me grudgingly admires Komen. Heck, I tell nonprofits all the time they should operate more like businesses. And that’s what Komen is doing. If they were a for-profit company instead of a nonprofit we’d be applauding their actions, or at least ignoring them. After all, we live in a country where success and money wash every sin clean. And Komen has plenty of soap to spare.

The challenge is that Komen is a nonprofit but their walking and talking like the Standard Oil of our time. I hope they’re headed for a crash, or at least a painful breakup.

But that’s not up to me. It’s up to you. (I say you because I’ve never supported Komen and I never will. I don’t even talk about their cause marketing much except to be critical of it. Yeah, I’m grinding my ax when I can.)

You gave them their swagger with your sweat, support and money. You created a monster. Not that you care. You’ll turn a blind eye and find comfort in the stories of sadness, hope, womanhood, courage and success that define the Komen experience.

That’s just what Komen wants. Come walk season, you’ll still be wearing pink.

You need a new narrative that puts cause above Komen. A true supporter is someone who is willing to defend her cause from the people who would hurt it, even if they are within the cause. This new story needs to be about accountability and direction that speaks to the breast cancer organization you want.

If you’re happy with deep fried cause marketing, brand witch hunts and punishing poor women, congratulations, you have the organization you want.

But if you want something else: wipe away your tears, dump the pink and find your angry voice and tell Komen to change their ways, or you’ll change yours.

My friend Joe Waters got me to seriously think about cause marketing. (After all, he wrote the book!) Thanks to him, I’ve now been seeing cause marketing everywhere…sort of like when you buy a car and then start seeing them all over the place.

Enough Already
Today was a bit over the top. I was on a Delta flight back from conducting a board orientation in Chattanooga. As the beverage service was about to start, the stewardess told us that Delta’s annual tradition in October was to sell pink martinis and pink lemonade. Money from those drinks would support cancer research. She repeated this same basic information at least three times. And, despite having said only credit cards could be used to purchase food, she repeatedly said cash could be used to by the pink drinks or to simply make a cash donation.

I kind of felt that awkward feeling you can feel in church when the plate was about to be passed: you feel sort of captive and not really sure you want to support what they’re talking about at the level they seem to expect.

They’d made this same pitch on the way down to Chattanooga so I shrugged it off. Although I thought three separate times, especially pushing martinis in the morning, was a bit overkill, I chose to be glad for the fundraising.

But Wait There’s More
Then about 30 minutes later, something happened that I’ve never experienced in all my travels. As the crew was preparing to collect trash, a stewardess got on the intercom and started monologuing on the importance of recycling. “This crew recycles, even when the other Delta crews don’t even though their supposed to.”

Not a compelling start!

She went on to explain that the recycling generates cash proceeds that are given to Habitat. Despite her long speech, she never connected the dots on how that putting the plastic cups in her hand instead of the trash bag became money. But she told us Delta gave $76,000 to Habitat for Humanity in 2010. And Delta employees all over the country were giving up vacation time to build Habitat houses to help people like those displaced by Katrina.

Is it Just Me
All this pushy messaging felt like a heavy handed dose of self righteousness with a dash of good corporate citizenship. While I’m glad Delta is making good philanthropic decisions, did we really need to have it shoved in our face?

Is it just me? Have you seen corporate giving come across oddly? But how else will companies let us know the good they’re doing?

When I was a kid charity was for chumps.

Despite the fact that my family, and most of our neighbors, got all types of government and public charity, we saw how carelessly and unevenly it was spread to the deserving and not so deserving. After church, where everyone put a buck or two in the basket, charity was sporadic and sometimes exploited.

Every Labor Day weekend the neighborhood kids went door to door collecting money for the Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon. But MDA never saw a dime. They kids kept it saying they were Jerry’s Kids and needed it more.

The neighbors I grew up with in Brockton, Massachusetts were giving but not charitable. We looked out for each other. We helped each other. Even if we didn’t like each other.

Old lady Burgess across the street rarely spoke to my mother. She might have had good reason. My father sometimes slept off a hard night on our picnic table in full view of her window. But when my twin brother and I were born and my mother was overburdened with newborns, five other kids and dad, she crossed the street and washed our clothes and hung them out to dry.

I don’t remember her crossing the street again, or my mother reciprocating the kindness. But I knew my parents would have if the need or request had come.

Charity started at home. But no one called it charity. There was a visible web of caring in my neighborhood that made that word seem artificial and distant.

Most of the charity that happens these days still feels this way. It can be cause marketing or any other kind of giving. When giving is disconnected from caring and context, it’s just charity, in the worst sense of the word.

Maybe that’s how Steve Jobs - whose public giving was questioned last week - feels and has chosen instead to drive all his caring into building a first class company that showers its employees and customers with rewards and opportunity.

Jobs’ giving is at home.

Jessica Gottlieb lectured us in “Your Cause Marketing Makes Me Hate Poor People” that

Charity matters. Giving of ones self is something that makes us better people. Biblically and traditionally the most cherished gifts, the ones seen as being the most pious are anonymous. When you donate two cents on every hundred dollars and then take out seventy three ads to tell me that you’re fighting breast cancer I don’t call that giving. I call that taking.

I call it give and take.

That’s what I saw in my neighborhood. Maybe that’s what Steve Jobs sees in his.

The sway between give and take played out this past weekend when the first Labor Day in decades came and went without Jerry Lewis as the frontman of the Muscular Dystrophy Association’s telethon. He gave a lot to people with muscular dystrophy. His caring brought an obscure disease to the public’s attention and raised billions to fight it.

But Lewis feasted on the fame, especially when Telethon was the only act he had left. And it’s hard not to conclude that his curtain calls have kept MDA from evolving and modernizing leaving its post-Lewis future in doubt.

Give and take. Good and bad. That’s what real charity is all about.

I just can’t understand what Kentucky Fried Chicken is thinking with its latest cause marketing program. This picture says it all. Buy a HALF-GALLON of soda – with 800 calories from 56 spoonfuls of sugar – for $2.99 and a buck goes to Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

I’m actually more astonished that JDRF would sign on for such a pact. KFC showed it’s a bird of a different feather last year with Buckets for the Cure and the dreadful Double Down. It’s no surprise to me that they deep fried their reputation again, covering it with a disgusting, unappealing exterior that few can digest.

But JDRF should have known better. I Googled the partnership and some Dallas KFC’s were selling JDRF’s signature sneaker pinups, which seems a more appropriate venture as it’s not directly connected to KFC’s menu.

I’ve said this before: I don’t have a problem with nonprofits and fast-serve chains doing cause marketing. What I do have a problem with is when fast serve chains like KFC encourage consumers to buy products that directly contribute to the health conditions – in this case diabetes – they are supposedly trying to prevent by partnering with the cause in the first place.

It’s like if Philip Morris partnered with Smokey the Bear and donated a portion of all cigarette sales to conservation groups working to stop wildfires – fires that are sometimes started by careless smokers!

It’s simply that ridiculous!

What was JDRF thinking? I’m not sure, but I’m calling them today to see if I can find out!

[Update 6/11/11: JDRF emailed me a response to my blog post and gave me permission to post it on my blog. See the comments section.]

I’m not saying that these calls for pause weren’t uncalled for. I’m just wondering whether cause marketing is really a disaster after disasters, or are people being overly sensitive or maybe even hurting they want to help.

Let’s begin with the definition of cause marketing. You might be familiar with mine: Cause marketing is a partnership between a nonprofit and for-profit for mutual profit. The nonprofit “profits” from the visibility and dollars raised while the for-profit benefits from increased consumer favorability which may drive sales.

I agree with Mom101 that post-disaster is no time for marketing ploys. Of course, this begs the question if there is ever a time for opportunism when it comes to cause marketing and raising money to support good causes.

Next, you have to look at just what type of cause marketing a company might use to help quake victims. Is there one type that might be better than another?

Point of Sale - A chain mobilizes its storefronts to ask customers to donate to agencies that are helping quake victims. 100% of the money goes right to these nonprofits; the company is merely a pass through. The company may even choose to match a portion or all of the donations. It’s hard to argue against this type of cause marketing.

Purchase Triggered Donations - You designate a product or service from which up to 100% is donated to quake relief. I could see consumers frowning on this one, especially if it was less than 100%. If Starbucks said they were donating all the money they made in their U. S.  stores from 8 to 9am on one weekday, would you think less of them? Would you complain that they should just donate the money instead of using cause marketing, even if it heightened the need to give to quake victims?

Message Promotion – What if Target took a piece of its advertising budget and devoted it to ads telling consumers how they could support the Red Cross’ efforts in Japan. Is there no place for that type of cause marketing as well? This extends to digital cause marketing too. What if Toyota put its Facebook page to work promoting the Japan Earthquake page so people could stay informed and engaged.

Employees Engagement - Building off of Help Attack! which I talked about last week, aircraft maker Boeing could set aside one million dollars for the Red Cross so employees that sign up for the social giving service can tweet and Facebook for the victims.

I think there are some good ways that cause marketing could be helpful immediately after disasters. I also don’t think people are aware of all the different ways cause marketing could aid a relief effort.

Of course, cause marketing needs to be done tactfully, senstively in light of the circumstances. An added bonus might be that while plenty of money will naturally pour into relief agencies in the immediate days following a disaster, cause marketing might just be the engine that sustains the momentum of giving.

Whether it’s after a disaster or in the ongoing fight against cancer, cause marketing should never be viewed as having “strings attached.” Why can’t it be a lifeline instead?

What do you think?

Enough people have registered their opinion to confirm this deal-breaker for everyone: Groupon’s Superbowl ads Sunday night were ill-conceived and offensive. Goodwill earned from this promotion: 0%.

As of this printing, Groupon should have apologized (they haven’t), pulled the ads (saw one last night), fired their agency (standing shoulder to shoulder) and donated a boatload of money to the causes they offended (Umm…nope).

But while the ads may have been a disaster for Groupon, they highlight four important lessons for causes and the businesses that work with them.

Holy, Batman! This cause marketing stuff really works! The outrage against Groupon was immediate, loud and passionate. As Willy Wonka said, “Strike that. Reverse it.” Now imagine if Groupon had produced a great cause marketing ad and the raves it would have earned from viewers. Cause marketing is a powerful, meaningful strategy that enhances a company’s favorability–when it’s done well. When it’s not, it has an equally potent but negative impact.

Group buying sites can work for causes. There was a legitimate giving component to Groupon’s Superbowl spots but it wasn’t mentioned in the ads (Groupon offered to match donations to the causes they dissed). Also left out was that Groupon and other group buying sites can be used to help causes. Groupon and Living Social have worked with DonorsChoose.org to raise over $250,000. A recent post in Mashable reviewed seven group buying sites using daily deals to give back. And just this week I did a deeper dive on GoodTwo.com, a daily deal platform that lets causes and individual fundraisers combine commerce with contacts to raise cash.

Humor has a place in cause marketing. Tom Watson pointed this out in his wonderful post on the Groupon mess, and even the founder of Groupon has assured people that his company was just making fun of itself. The key is appropriate, non exploitative, positive and disruptive humor that flies in the face of the melodramatic pandering we see in most cause marketing. Some causes are trying to use humor well, while thers are reminding causes to laugh at themselves every now and then. Hopefully we’ll all get the message: humor for good is good.

The reason Groupon will survive is what you need to thrive in cause marketing. Groupon has a brand with the potential to join ranks with some of the best brands in the world (Starbucks, Mercedes, Nike, Apple, etc.). A strong brand is your most important asset in cause marketing. For cause or company, it’s like a magnet that draws people, money and influence closer, and, in difficult times, repels critics and controversy.

Take a top cause brand like Komen for the Cure that wields one of the strongest magnets in the cause world. They attract donors, celebrities and advocates in hoards who contribute marketing muscle and hundreds of millions to their fight. But last year when Komen got caught in the chicken coop with Kentucky Fried Chicken suddenly nothing stuck, and, despite waves of criticism, Komen weathered the storm well. Groupon and Komen demonstrate the power of brand and why we all need a powerful one.

And Groupon certainly has enough brand power to earn a pass on this Superbowl fumble. The rest of us shouldn’t spend a moment longer dissecting the replay. You need to get busy harnessing the power of cause marketing, the value of group buying sites and the disruptiveness of humor while building a brand that can play offense and defense.

Your goal should be to join Groupon one day in the big game of philanthropy, business and marketing. But unlike them, you’ll be winner.

"Resistance is futile."

The battleground is Europe, but it really could be anywhere in the world.

Governments are out of money, and museums, historical sites and cultural institutions are turning to the private sector and to consumers to keep their doors open and visitors moving through the turnstiles.

• Shiny electric cars sit outside one Rome museum after a business paid $110,000 for a sponsorship.
• The Louvre in Paris is exploring licensing its name to a line of elegant watches.
• In Spain an art museum is saving money on electricity by promoting its electric company partners.

Everyone talks about the growing reliance on corporate partnerships, but it’s only the beginning of the commerce and consumerism nonprofits will have to adopt to survive.

And cause marketing will be part of the vanguard.

With government funding decreasing annually and limits on how much donors will pay for tickets to a gala or an exhibition, nonprofits have to be more creative than ever in generating revenue, exploring untapped assets and watching expenses.

Beautifully situated on the left side of the Siene, the Musée d’Orsay has leveraged its location for profit by displaying giant posters for Air France and even H&M Clothing.

The days of going hat-in-hand are over as nonprofits have to hold onto their hats–and keep their heads–amid charges and retreats, victories and setbacks. Cause marketing may straddle both cause and commerce, but consumerism and elitism will always be wary of the other.

Will my favorite painting at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts, Watson & the Shark, soon be sponsored by Charlie the Tuna?

Will I really care? I’m not sure. But I am sure of this. Resistance is futile.

I know this because cause marketing is blessed and cursed by having what Malcolm Gladwell calls “weak ties.”

[I immediately connected with Gladwell's concept of weak ties when I read The Tipping Point years ago. Like Roger Horchow in the book, I prefer friendly yet casual social connections. It's no surprise I love cause marketing and social media.]

Here’s how Gladwell recently described weak ties in relation to social media in The New Yorker.

The platforms of social media are built around weak ties. Twitter is a way of following (or being followed by) people you may never have met. Facebook is a tool for efficiently managing your acquaintances, for keeping up with the people you would not otherwise be able to stay in touch with. That’s why you can have a thousand ‘friends’ on Facebook, as you never could in real life.

The ties surrounding cause marketing are equally weak. You check-in at a billboard for a cause and a company makes a donation. You donate a buck at the register to feed homeless families (or was it homeless dogs?). You buy a pair of sneakers and you may or may not know that a percentage supports breast cancer research.

You’ve read this blog enough to know that cause marketing has its merits and raises millions for causes. But it will never be the first, third or twentieth reason people cite as why we cured AIDS, stopped global warming or left no child behind in the classroom.

Why? For the same reason social media will never bring peace to the Middle East, unite Africa or save the oceans. Ultimately, it takes bands of people (offline, not shopping), organized for change, to accomplish these great tasks. Not wall updates, tweets, posts and check-ins. And certainly not pinups, cause products and promotions.

One of my favorite social media experts, Jason Falls, explains:

Social media [and cause marketing] are communications channels, not power structures. The hierarchy of order that produced the civil rights movement may have been helped by social media, but it would have (and did) happen without it, too…. Sure, Facebook messages may be the carrier pigeons, but carrier pigeons don’t win wars.

And pink ribbons won’t cure cancer.

Last week I got a thank you letter I really liked. This week my wife got a thank you letter she didn’t like. What was the difference?

Her thank you was for a Komen for the Cure run/walk she had participated in the previous weekend. My wife walked with a whole team of women, including a close friend of hers from work who has been fighting cancer for some time.

My wife was happy to walk and raised $400. Her team of five raised $2,500.

But when she read this email from Komen she didn’t feel appreciated. Although the subject line for the email said “Thank You!”, it felt thankless.

Thanks for putting a team together. Thanks for buying and screening your own team apparel. Thanks for taking time out on a Saturday morning to join us at the walk. Thanks for raising all that money and for exceeding your goal.

But do you think you could spare an extra ten bucks, sister? Because without it we’re not going to make OUR goal.

I was less insulted by the appeal, but probably because I’m a professional fundraiser and have looked a gift horse in the mouth more than once. Sadly, all in the interest of making goal, instead of what was in the best interest of my supporters.

But thinking like a donor, a supporter, I could understand how this email could strike the wrong chord with me, my wife and others that supported Komen last weekend.

What about you?

The buzz here in Boston was that Tom might have been a closet New York Jets fan (the car had New Jersey plates). Fortunately, his loyalty to New England is still intact. But you have to wonder about the connection between his head bone and judgement.

Now The Globe is reporting that Brady got the $97,000 car as part of the sponsorship pact Audi has with Best Buddies, a nonprofit Brady has had a high profile role in for several years.

A spokesman for the car company says,  “As co-sponsors, we provide vehicles to Best Buddies and to Tom Brady. Part of it is appreciation for his participation with Best Buddies.’’

There is no direct sponsorship agreement between Brady and Audi.

Really.

So Audi is a sponsor of Best Buddies and its signature fundraising bike ride from Boston to Hyannis. As part of the deal, they give the nonprofit cars to drive. That’s cool. Although I wonder how many $100k cars the staff at Best Buddies are driving.

Then there’s Brady. He has no official relationship with Audi, yet he accepts an expensive car from them in appreciation of his volunteer work with Best Buddies. Beats a t-shirt, doesn’t it?

The right response from Brady would seem to be “Thanks, but give the car or some money to Best Buddies instead. I’m the highest paid player in NFL history, if I want a car I’ll buy one. If you want to give me a car, sign a a sponsorship deal with me.”

Audi overstepped its bounds and took too many liberties with their relationship with Best Buddies. That’s my position, but you could take another. Audi may have been acting in the cause’s best interests by keeping a key fundraising asset engaged and happy. Tom Brady has probably helped Best Buddies raise millions. Isn’t a car lease for the star player cheap insurance?

And what about Brady. He wasn’t hurt in last week’s accident, but his judgement in accepting the car appears to be dead on arrival. Should he rethink from whom he gets his cars? Or is it a much deserved cause marketing perk?