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So much wood pulp has already been lavished on the Dome that I

hesitate to expend even a further crushed matchstick, let alone an

entire column, on the great Greenwich umbrella. But its sad progress

exemplifies three lessons for marketers which have not yet been brought

into the spotlight. The opening night fiasco did not help, of course,

but the real problems were more fundamental.

Whatever its artistic and engineering merits, the Dome cannot now avoid

being a sales and commercial disaster. At current attendance levels, it

will be lucky to reach 500,000 visitors by March 31. Even if it achieves

its target every day thereafter, which would be a miracle as impressive

as the parting of the Red Sea, it will still fall two million short of

its 12 million bull’s-eye. My personal guess is that it might just notch

up eight million visitors.

That leads to the first lesson for marketers. Everyone knows sales

estimates for new products are hit and miss. No reliable system yet

exists for exactly predicting consumers’ uptake of new ideas.

So if we are wise, we are cautious. We make optimistic and pessimistic

guestimates and pitch our tent somewhere between. The Dome went for the

top from the start. Given the seeming inability of the internal exhibits

to cope with even 20,000 visitors a day, it is clear that more would

spell organisational disaster. But the 12 million total was based on

notching up an average of 33,000 every day of the year, winter and

summer alike.

Impossible. First lesson: when planning new products, do not get

foolishly seduced by your own optimism.

Second lesson: examine the evidence sceptically. Ever since the Dome was

first mooted, people have claimed it would be as successful as the

Festival of Britain. It will. Because contrary to the spin doctors’

myths, the Festival was not a great success. It, too, missed its

attendance targets and lost a shedload of money. Halfway through 1951,

the organisers were forced to slash ticket prices by 50% to lure more

customers. When it closed, a brief Times editorial was decidedly muted,

and The Guardian wrote: ’On the whole it seemed to miss the

bull’s-eye’.

Did the New Millennium Experience Company study the real history of the

1951 Festival? It hardly seems so. Like inexperienced brand managers,

they didn’t want to be confused by the facts. Now they are paying the

price.

Third lesson: the Dome was production-led, not marketing-led. Insofar as

marketing entered the process at all, it was not until after the

fundamental decisions had been made. The production blokes (politicians

with axes to grind) got themselves an impressive pack - the blancmange

umbrella - then said ’let’s find something to put in it’. That kind of

amateurish behaviour still happens in business, too.

And it almost always leads to disaster.

Way back in history, when there was less competition of all kinds,

consumers would generally buy whatever was on offer, so production-led

ventures had a fair chance of success. Today, in every market, and

particularly in all forms of entertainment, people have a myriad of

choices. Carefully analysing and influencing those choices is what

marketing is all about.

Anyone who forgets it does so at their peril.

Winston Fletcher is the author of ’Tantrums and Talent’.