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The Dispatch
Famous because they’re good … or the other way around?
The Mere Exposure Effect
“And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? No. We begin by coveting what we see every day.” – Hannibal Lecter
Familiarity breeds fame.
How did a handful of works by seven French artists become some of the most famous Impressionist paintings in the world?
(Yes, there’s a point. Yes, it has something to do with marketing and psychology and nudging people towards a purchase.)
Assuming you’re not big into Impressionism or French art from the late 19th century, you might not have heard of Gustave Caillebotte.
Caillebotte was born in 1848 to a prominent, wealthy French family. An OG trust fund kid, he developed a passion and talent for painting when he was in his late twenties. He also discovered that he loved hanging out with some of the more controversial artists of the day, ones you have heard of — Monet, Renoir, Degas, Cezanne, Manet, Pissarro and Sisley.
Because he was wealthy, Caillebotte could afford to support his new friends by taking them out to dinner, loaning them money and, more significantly, buying their art. In particular, he bought the stuff they couldn’t sell, the paintings no one else wanted. All told, Caillebotte purchased around 70 works of art from his Impressionist pals.
According to “Hit Makers: How Things Become Popular” by Derek Thompson, Caillebotte’s collection included “16 canvases by Monet, eight by Renoir, eight by Degas, five by Cezanne and four by Manet, along with eighteen by Pissarro and nine by Sisley.” Clearly, Pissarro and Monet had a tougher time selling their art.
Caillebotte died fairly young, and he bequeathed his collection to the French government with the stipulation that these paintings must be shown in a national gallery.
Maybe call it Unimpressionism?
There was a bit of a hiccup — the French government absolutely did not want his collection. The Impressionists were looked down upon; their technique was considered amateurish, their subjects déclassé, their paintings unfinished at best. Even the name “Impressionism” was originally an insult.
Question: Were the critics right? Maybe. It’s difficult to separate unfettered art snobbery from the idea that critics might have been onto something. It’s also easy to paint the Impressionists with a broad brush by declaring them either punk geniuses or artistically deficient.
Regardless, conservative art critics and politicians called Caillebotte’s “gift” morally corrupt. Which? Was probably a bridge over a pond of water lilies too far.
Still, so many pearls were clutched that the government refused the collection, and these fantastic works of art (?) by seven immensely talented artists (??) might have been relegated to the dustbin of history. Except …
Caillebotte’s family was determined that the French government honor his bequest, so they decided to sue. Eventually, the government relented and his collection was displayed in a prominent national museum, the Musée du Luxembourg. By this time there was so much controversy and “buzz” in the press about the paintings and the civil case, thousands of people turned up to see what all the fuss was about. So many people showed up that they had to move the collection to the larger Musée Jeu de Paume.
Caillebotte’s collection had a strange effect — it essentially created Impressionism the brand.
Again, Caillebotte pretty much only bought paintings from the seven artists he considered friends, and he bought the paintings no one else wanted.
But because these works of art eventually hung in a prominent national gallery, because the French press wrote about them, because art critics and academics wrote and talked about them, and because so many people had seen them, they were reproduced in art history books, prints, posters and postcards around the world. These artists became familiar. Their work became the standard for what everyone considered “good.” Then they became canon.
Not because they were the best paintings by the best artists, but because the influential family of a dead guy demanded that the French government hang his collection in a national gallery. And, of course, because Caillebotte had posthumously caused a public scandal, which is probably what he wanted.
Are they famous because they’re good or good because they’re famous?
Fast-forward a hundred years to a psychologist and professor at Cornell named James Cutting. He noticed nearly all the Impressionist works in all the art history books he looked through could be traced to Caillebotte’s collection. He thought that was a bit odd. After all, Impressionism was way bigger than these seven dudes (there were also women!) and way bigger than France. And there was a lot more going on in the French art scene at the time, including Caillebotte himself.
Putting them to the test.
Cutting had a hypothesis that people prefer art (and media, entertainment and brands) they’ve seen before. So he presented students in one of his classes with paired works of Impressionist art. One painting was famous, one was not.
6 out of 10 students (166 in total) said they preferred the more famous picture. And that makes a certain amount of sense, especially for people who don’t know enough or care enough about art to feel like they can make an informed judgment. They like what they already know.
And how do you turn something unknown into something famous? You show it to people over and over again.
In a separate class, Cutting showed obscure art from the late 19th century to a different group of students. The students saw an unknown painting four times for every one famous work of art.
At the end of the semester, he asked his students to pick their favorite painting among 51 pairs. 41 out of 51 times, they picked the nonfamous paintings. The unknown had become familiar; the obscure had become good.
What does that mean for you?
It’s not always about quality. Most of the brands we prefer are simply “good enough.” We like them because we’re familiar with them, and familiarity is built over years.
Is Coke the best soda? Is Salesforce the best CRM software? Does Nike actually make the best basketball shoes? Are iPhones the best smartphones out there? Is David Gruber the best personal injury lawyer around? Maybe? They’re certainly good enough, but are they famous because they’re good … or are they considered good because they’re famous?
People like what they already know. It’s called the Mere Exposure Effect or the Familiarity Principle.
The more a consumer sees a brand — on TV, on Instagram, on shelves, in the wild — the more they tend to like and trust it.
By definition, challenger brands are unknown to most people. If you want to grow, you have to get your brand in front of an increasingly larger audience because light buyers are your best opportunity for growth. Sometimes light buyers become habitual buyers, and sometimes habitual buyers become non-buyers. Your customer base is fairly fluid, so even if you’re happy at the size you are now, you still need to reach new people.
Are you showing up consistently in your audience’s world? Are you reaching as many light and new buyers as budgetarily possible? Are you building the kind of fame, feeling and fluency (mental availability) that grows your brand?
The Mere Exposure Effect is one of the reasons consistency over time is so critical to driving brand growth. Of course quality and service matter — the best marketing can’t save a terrible product or rotten customer experience. But more often than not, mental availability drives perceived value.
Yes, there’s an art to it. And a science. We can help. We’ll see you next time.
Sources!