Michael Banovsky

Scion is barely four months into its tenure in Canada, and already seems destined to live out its days ordering pizza, waking up at noon, and watching That 70’s Show in Toyota’s basement.

Sales? Well, despite Toyota saying that—contrary to every other vehicle line on the planet—Scion isn’t really “about sales,” I’d bet that more single-speed bicycles have been sold on Craigslist in Canada since the xB, xD, and tC debuted last October. How few Scions have they sold since? 841. Honda sold more CR-Vs in January. Womp womp.

The problem here is that—of course—young kids don’t have jobs any more. I’ll spare you a tirade on how even as a leftie (Marx not Flanders, you spanner) I can honestly say most kids deserve a Hush Puppy to the backside of their skinny jeans, and merely say this:

Scion needs to grow up quickly if it’s ever going to teach its parents a thing or two.

Kids (I can still say that at 27, right?) have always yearned for things that bring them closer to their peers. That’s why I believe pensioners in 2080 will be as nostalgic for antiquiated cell phone throwbacks as today’s baby boomers are for muscle cars: young people yearn to connect.

As far as I’m concerned, Scion was D.O.A. as soon as websites like Facebook, Twitter, and Yelp added smartphone apps to cell phones. Why? Young people, ever the early adopters, are now more likely to connect over a Yelp recommendation than at the local drive-in. (Coincidentally, Scion sales peaked in 2006; the first iPhone entered the market in early 2007.)

Let me channel the spirit of a do-gooding-yet-creepy-uncle here and suggest five ways for Scion to flourish:

1) Your tagline is lame, bro. “What moves you”? Really? Bran moves me. Here’s a better tagline: “Your first new car.” Why? Kia is heading upmarket, Mitsubishi is, well, sinking, and Suzuki would rather sell you a dirt bike. Combining Toyota quality (yeah, I said it) and reputation to a low-price alternative would be the automotive equivalent of No Name food, and it’d sell.

2) Stop marketing to kids. Visit scionnation.ca, and peep this contest: “Play our augmented reality game for a chance to win a tC.” Kids play games. Kids also go to concerts (Scion sponsors events) and listen to music (Scion makes mixed CDs.) Here’s a problem, though: kids would rather play Angry Birds on their iPhones than a proprietary flash game that you have to register with before you can play. Hell, I made a dentist appointment instead of registering.

I’d adjust prices (including offered accessories) and go with a simple marketing campaign: “Tops out at 25.” You can still go with young people in ads, but the brand really resonates with Canadians who will know that—no matter what accessories they install—no Scion will cost more than $25,000. “Can I afford this car?” is totally answered, and for most, $25,000 is an acceptable sum for a fully-loaded small car.

3) Be a concierge. When in high school, I used to sell cars. I was licensed and everything. Since, I’ve written about cars for eight years. You know what? I have no freaking idea how to buy a new car. That’s somewhat a lie—I think money is involved—but Scion should make it as simple as possible to buy a new car.

In fact, the experience should be more about information than the cars themselves. Show people how to shop for insurance. How to negotiate. What to ask a salesperson. How to determine if a vehicle fits into their budget. Providing shoppers with a real resource is the only way to build brand equity and, from the sounds of it, it’s not like Scion salespeople are all that busy anyhow.

Imagine a salesperson saying, “Since I have all of your details in front of me, let me call a few insurance companies and see who gives you the best price…”

(While they’re at it, why not set buyers up with a mint.com account and consolodate their accounts so they have an easy way to track car/insurance/credit card payments?)

4) The car is a network—for both drivers and Toyota. Remember what I said above, about how cell phones and social networks are killing car sales? Turn the experience on its head. “I bought a Scion, now I can…” 

Offer really good, really worthwhile deals. Maybe a cent off of fuel. Discount at Tim Horton’s. Deal on a smartphone. Let people “Check-in” to Facebook so it shows: “Checked in to [place] in my Scion.” Maybe a discount on parking, too… Hell, make the first Friday of every month a free parking day in major cities across Canada.

These offers should be a mix of long-term and short-term deals. It should pay to drive a Scion, and it should be automatic. Imagine how pumped you’d get if you pulled up to a coffee shop and the barista said: “Oh hey, awesome Scion! You get your next drink for free.”

How does Toyota benefit? Sites like Groupon and Gilt offer advertisers access to a distinct group of people. For Toyota, penning marketing deals for access to their Scion customers will not only help them make some sweet side revenue but test out a model that would work well with its upper crust brand, Lexus. (There are already deals in place between Lexus and hotels; what about an automatic room discount for Scion drivers at Super 8 or something?)

In North America, more than 790,000 Scions have been sold since 2003. Seems like an advertising network worth pursuing—this is something you grandfather to current owners, too. (Imagine the improvement in residual values if you provide an ecosystem in which drivers of a certain car save money automatically.)

5) Experiment. Tell owners how to join RelayRides, a peer-to-peer car sharing service that can earn the vehicle owner thousands of dollars per year in short-term rentals. Make a mobile-enabled website for owners to share fuel economy numbers, and how to get the most from their car. Maybe find a way to “Check in” at a gas station by scanning a barcode printed on a reciept—which gives the owner a free car wash and uploads the fuel economy information into a database, helping them keep track of how much they spend.

The point of all this? Give owners a reason to talk about their Scion as much as possible. Give them a reason to talk to other owners. And give them a reason to positively associate personal experiences with the car they drive.

Right now, I just can’t relate. And judging by current sales, neither can most Canadians. A shame, too: I love the box but hate the packaging.

So here we go:

First, read this, from “The Future of Journalism” on.

Second, I had no idea Phoenix was large enough to have its own “automotive media” association.

Third, why would McGuire speak informally about “historic changes now affecting journalists;” it’s pretty serious, no? Surely serious enough to have a formal discussion…

Fourth, buzzwords like “creative destruction,” “push,” and “pull,” should be banned from any meaningful discussion on “how the Internet works.”

Fifth, Facebook and Twitter aren’t important in and of themselves; they’re important in terms of what they allow people to express. People have been expressing and sharing the same information for years. Do you think people wouldn’t be talking about the World Cup if Twitter didn’t exist?

Sixth, the “Internet” hasn’t commoditized news, information, or opinion. People have. If people didn’t want to use programs and websites to do things like Twitter about the Gulf oil spill or set up a Volvo photo blog, they wouldn’t. If people were content to read just Road & Track, they would; obviously the places that pay “automotive journalists” to do the things they do aren’t cutting it for many people. Very few are being held at gunpoint to use the a computer (unless they’re in a Nicholas Cage movie.)

Aside: I’ll bet that more of humanity’s time has been spent on Facebook since its inception than humanity has spent—ever—on reading about cars. Once you run the numbers, the time spent by Facebook users over one minute of one day is about the equivalent to the average human life (in years!)…more than 75 times over.

Seventh, McGuire proves he’s an idiot that he’s mistaken, so I’ll quote:

an individual journalist’s influence—and maybe livelihood—increasingly depends on becoming “famous” and “followed,” which requires developing a “personal brand” through being published on the Web, blogging, and social networking activity.

— Professor Tim McGuire, Arizona State University

Eighth, (to the quote above) a journalist’s job is—and has always been, natch—to be relevant. They can be relevant to classic cars, architecture, homosexuals, Phoenix, Twitter, or whatever. To make a living as a journalist, they must at least be relevant. To develop a “personality,” they must be irrelevant. People read Perez Hilton because he’s ultimately irrelevant to their lives (yet) they’re making a conscious choice to consume his material. Lots of people thinking about you within a certain context gets you a reputation. Do they think about you because of your relevancy or irrelevancy? What would you prefer?

Ninth, the big failure, in my opinion, of dispensing advice to writers who struggle with the “Internet” is that they’ll still have bills even if they master Twitter. Can you write only for the Internet and get paid? Sure! Can you write only for print and get paid? Sure! You can be in the middle and make it work, but chances are that you’re not that great at what you do (so neither the Internet nor print needs you.) 

Tenth, I used to believe I had a “personal brand,” but realized it (and “me”) is really just a combination of “relevant” and “irrelevant.” Instead, I focus on my reputation. At the moment, my social media reputation has suffered because I’m developing my work (IE, paycheque) reputation. Balance is always important and never easy.

Another aside: I wrote out the numbers to prove that “firstly, secondly, thirdly, etc. are stupid and should never be used by a conscious writer. Twentiethly? How does that sound?