What do "New" Coke, Watermelon Oreos, Frito-Lay Lemonade, Coors Rocky Mountain Sparkling Water, the Apple Newton, and Microsoft Zune have in common?
They were all colossal failures with consumers. Even so, they still have a small, but dedicated, following.
According to a recent article in the New York Times, "All of these products share a similar and surprisingly large fan base — a quirky subgroup of consumers who are systemically drawn to flops and whose reliably contrarian tastes can be used to forecast bad bets in retail sales, real estate, and even politics. These people are known as harbingers of failure."
The article further states that, "The study of harbingers emerged from a 2015 analysis of purchasing patterns at a national convenience store chain. Drawing on six years' worth of data from the chain's loyalty card program, a team of marketing professors classified customers according to their affinity for buying new products that were later pulled from the shelves because of weak demand. Of the roughly 130,000 customers whose purchases were analyzed, about 25 percent of them consistently took home products that bombed."
These "harbingers of failure," statistically speaking, were reliable indicators of whether or not a product would be a smash hit or an unmitigated failure.
The curiosity doesn't stop there. It turns out that not only do these people exist, but they tend to live near one another in places that are known as "harbinger zip codes."
Yep, it turns out that when these "harbinger households" move, they tend to move to areas where other harbingers are densely populated.
According to the study's authors, "As with their tastes in soda and jeans, these decisions have a predictably gloomy result: Property values in harbinger ZIP codes consistently underperform the broader market."
Makes you think of your neighbor just a little bit differently, doesn't it?
What about your neighborhood school? Does it make you think of it differently? It should.
Very shortly, our schools are going to be forced to make tough and complicated decisions about how and what we teach our students. And if recommendations coming out of places like Missouri, Maryland, and California are widely adopted, there is reason to be concerned that music is in play.
But the logic is as faulty as the question is flawed.
I do not think they make these recommendations lightly and do so in an earnest desire to provide a safe learning environment for students.
Let's reframe the question.
The discussion that should be had is, what do we value, and what is essential to this school? Once we decide what that is, we then turn our attention to the question of making it safe.
As schools start to cast aside programs, offerings, and activities, other schools will find a way to make those things work and then market them to their local community. If this happens, it will be unfortunate and unpleasant for our students, schools, and communities. This is a trend that started with the introduction of charter schools, and the current pandemic will only serve to add an abundance of fuel to that fire.
For example:
If Smith High School decides that current events will force them to eliminate football this fall, I believe that soon thereafter, Jones High School will, as a matter of differentiation, find a way to make it work. They will then aggressively market and recruit to all the local athletes to switch to Jones High School, "Where athletics matters." The end result being that competitive athletics at Jones High School will blossom into a powerhouse while simultaneously down the street, Smith High School becomes an athletic harbinger for the unathletic and uninterested.
The analogy works as well for music as it does for sports.
If we have learned anything from the harbingers of doom, it is that they have an uncanny ability to find failure, and they gravitate towards it in numbers.
As our school boards and politicians work through the difficult decisions of when and how to re-open, I can only hope that they are not just asking what is safe but also what matters and how to we make it safe.
Music matters. And it has to be more than a sentiment. It has to mean something, and we need to do what it takes to ensure its survival. That is where I want America's children, and that is where I will send my two boys.
After all, I am no harbinger of failure.
p.s. If you are concerned about the future of your program, this Friday's webinar in one you're going to want to attend. Click below to RSVP for the event.