The importance of language in marketing

I’m not a product development manager. I’m not a graphic designer. And I’m certainly not a marketing guru. Yet somehow my activities are very closely linked to theirs. As a translator, proofreader and copywriter, you’re behind the scenes, trying to make their work even better, trying to adapt it to the desired target audience. You feel responsible for launching their products and services, for turning their efforts into a great success.

Unfortunately sometimes things go wrong. Texts are not proofread by reputable translation agencies trying to cut costs. Marketing managers rewrite, rephrase and mutilate the copywriter’s texts without having them checked again. Graphic designers and printers don’t spellcheck ads to save time and money, or for fear of being criticised by their clients.

Companies big and small seem to think it’s more important to invest in form rather than in content. They couldn’t be more wrong. Imagine this scenario: you sell expensive crystal vases. Your aim is to position your business in the top-of-the-range end of the market. You write a 50-word ad yourself, because you refuse to fork out 50 euros for a copywriter to do it for you. But you do hire a professional photographer to shoot stunning photos of your vases. At a cost of a few hundred euros. The result: your ad looks exactly the way you wanted it to look – it exudes the air of luxury and elegance that you were after – but upon closer inspection there’s something not quite right about the actual text. A spelling error. Was it worth saving those 50 euros?

Not everyone will notice, that’s true. And not everyone will care. Maybe you’re not too bothered yourself. However, don’t forget that many – if not most – consumers will rely on your marketing material to forge an opinion on your business. Their (I mean our) reasoning: if they can’t even be bothered to proofread their own ads, what should I expect from their customer service?

In marketing the importance of language is often overlooked. Yet it’s one of the most fundamental aspects of this type of communication. Language bridges the gap between a business and its customers. It illustrates the company’s ability to convey its know-how. By language I mean spelling, grammar, syntax, punctuation, the whole lot. No need for nitpicking, but blatant errors should be avoided at all costs. And that’s where we come in!

Have fun trying to figure out what went wrong below!

A combination of English and German?

Buy a tool... and get a free motoring school? That's what I call a good deal! But there's more...

Video: social experiment

Quand’ero piccola mi rifugiavo sotto il fico nel giardino dei nonni e giocavo a mamma casetta. Mi dava un senso di libertà che ho perso strada facendo.

In de kleuterschool hield ik van huppelen en tekende ik regenbogen en zonnestralen. Kon ik maar weer kind zijn.

In London – the big city – I felt like a tiny grown-up. Vulnerable and empowered at the same time.

Three different settings. Three different impressions of one and the same person, who grew up speaking three languages but can’t seem to identify with a single one of them. In a previous post (read it here) I explained my background and my journey through the world of languages. Today I want to start a series of social experiments with my readers. Ready for the challenge?

Below you will find a video of me. It’s a short compilation of spontaneous spoken language. The aim of this first experiment is not to judge the way I look or the way I edited the video (I’m new to this), but to explore how you are perceived based on the language you speak. What if you speak more than one language? Do people see you as one and the same person or do they feel you change according to the language you're speaking at a particular point in time? As a trilingual person, I sometimes feel like three different people moulded into one.

Imagine us meeting in Italy and me speaking Italian. What would be your first impression of me? Would you feel the same way if we met in Malta with me speaking English or in Belgium with me speaking Dutch?

Does my tone change? Do I sound more confident in one of these three languages? Does your perception of me change based on the language I speak?

Leave your comments below. A detailed discussion will follow.

Words I love

Today’s post is a little different. Since I work with languages all day, every day, I thought I’d share my favourite words with you – and explain why I love them so much. I’m not going to include the translations, because that would turn you into a lazy reader. I like a challenge, and therefore I challenge you to find out the meaning of the words you don’t know. Not by using Google Translate, but by finding a native speaker who can help you out. I said this in an earlier post: I like personal contact more than I like computers, so make this your task of the day. Communicate. Discover. And look at language from a totally different perspective. Pronounce these words, try to give them your very own meaning. Use them in a sentence. Find synonyms and antonyms. Have fun!

By the way, the languages are in no particular order.

Dutch

Sowieso: a tricky one – many native speakers can’t even spell this word. I think it’s trendy. It makes me feel young and dynamic.

Genieten: it doesn’t sound as peaceful and relaxing as it should, yet it conveys a certain calmness.

English

Gizmo: the name of my adorable dog and such a unique word. A tad aggressive and buzzing.

Odd: I use this one a lot (you’ve probably noticed). It’s short and powerful. And a little quirky.

Italian

Affascinante: passion, beauty, Italy at its best. Sexy, but not vulgar. Blissful. Reminds me of romantic restaurants in the Trastevere district of Rome.

Cucciolo: cuteness overload. Perfectly rounded pronunciation, I always say this with a baby voice. It reminds me of years gone by, green fields, blue skies and daisies.

Maltese

Ejja: when I moved here, I vowed never to include this in my repertoire. Alas, I have failed. It’s so typically Maltese. It perfectly reflects the local lifestyle, a little laissez-faire and a little rushed, but always cheerful.

Hanini: another word I thought (and hoped) I would never use. Adorable.

French

Bonjour: this word makes me smile. In fact, my first e-mail of the day always starts with “bonjour” regardless of the recipient. It’s French but international. It’s elegant and sweet.

Bonbon: how cute is this? Playful, delicious and a teeny-weeny bit childish, but in a good way.

Why not make a list of your favourite words? If you had to define a language using only two words, which ones would you opt for and why? What do you associate your favourite words with?

Aha, the roof!

Malta has two official languages: English and Maltese. And most people also speak, or at least understand, Italian. For those of you who don’t know where Malta is: it’s right below Sicily. It’s tiny, but it has the history of a giant – temples older than Stonehenge, a marvellous capital city that showcases centuries of art, and one church or chapel for every day of the year. And it also has its very own language!

Republic Street, Valletta

When I moved here, I thought communication wouldn’t be a big issue, since everyone is supposed to speak English. FAIL. Maltese is really and truly the first language. It’s a really strange, but fascinating language - a mix of English, Italian and Arabic. I figured I have to at least know what people around me are saying. So I threw a notepad and a pen in my handbag and headed to the University of Malta, where I completed two courses in Maltese for foreigners. An unforgettable experience.

After that, I puckered up the courage to occasionally communicate with the locals in their native language. I feel it’s more respectful for me to adapt to them, than the other way around. That proved to be quite a challenge. No course can prepare you for real-life conversations. And believe it or not, there are different accents in Maltese – when you go to Gozo, Malta’s sister island, the tone completely changes and some words become incomprehensible. 

And this is Gozo

When hubby-to-be, a.k.a. the Malteser, and I bought our flat, we had quite a few workers coming in and out of our very first home. One of the first things that needed to be installed was the telephone line, otherwise there was no way for me to work. And that’s when I realised that knowing at least some basic Maltese can be a godsend. The technician spoke no English at all. Nothing. So he mumbles something and all I understand is “bejt”. Aha, bejt – I know what that means: roof. So we go up to the roof – five floors, in complete silence. God, this lift is slow. Here we are, standing on the roof, staring at each other. Awkward smile. Jiena nofs Belgjana u nofs Taljana. Nistudja l-Malti l-università. Imma mhux faċli…* (“I’m half Belgian and half Italian. I’m studying Maltese at university. It’s not easy.”). End of conversation. Reschedule appointment. Preferably with an English-speaking installer.

Maltese. Be honest, it doesn't look easy, does it?

Today, I can safely say that my Maltese has improved dramatically. Not to the point where I can keep up with an entire discussion. But I understand a lot. I’m still a bit uncomfortable speaking this odd language, though. My intonation is that of a drunk Italian and I invent words, usually by adding a “u” to Italian words – for some reason my brain thinks that Maltese is an offshoot of Sardinian. Mhux hekk?

* If you’re Maltese, I apologise for butchering your language.

LOL & ROFL – WTF?

I’m old. I’m 27 going on 28, and I feel old. Especially in conversation. I can’t keep up with the way (the English) language is evolving. I live in Malta, where English is an official language. I was raised speaking English and Italian at home, and Dutch at school. I can get by with my basic Maltese. Language is supposed to be easy for me – it’s my passion, it’s what (I think) I’m good at. So why on earth do I find myself questioning my skills over and over again?

I’m a translator, proofreader and copywriter. Needless to say, I know that language is dynamic. I’m an advocate of progressive vocabulary. I welcome new words and expressions. And yet I can’t keep up with the way teenagers and twenty-somethings speak. Not only that, I also find it utterly ridiculous.

Apparently when something is funny, you no longer laugh or smile. Nowadays, you say LOL. Come on, LOL?! And something extremely funny has now earned its very own abbreviation: ROFL. When I first heard it, I had to google it (yes – Google has become a verb, are you supposed to capitalise it when it’s used as a verb?).

I can understand you might want to use abbreviations while chatting, in writing I mean – I’m not a fan, but I do see the logic behind it: a fast-paced life calls for quick and easy communication methods. Capital letters have been banned. Punctuation is a thing of the past. But why, oh why can’t we take the time to pronounce words in full? And what happened to the good old smile or laugh? Isn’t that enough to show appreciation for a humorous remark? Do we need to add foolish internet slang to our spoken interactions?

Naturally, when you work from your sofa/bed/kitchen stool, your circle of friends and acquaintances is more limited than that of say, a marketing manager who attends networking events. The scope of your spoken communication is also more focused – you speak only when and if necessary, and it’s mostly about work. Could that be the reason why I’m not on trend? Or is it really an age thing? I’m starting to doubt myself…