We don’t own, we opt in

This article was originally published by Ad News
When was the last time you looked through a photo album? Chances are that it was probably a long time ago, rummaging in a cupboard at your parents' house.

Can you imagine your mum asking you for $2.99 a month to store your memories? You'd probably laugh at her, but we’ve been doing this for years. The first time we paid $2.99, it felt like a bargain; the 300^th time felt more like a lost cause.

But we still own our photos, right? We were the ones who lined up the shots and awkwardly huddled with our friends for selfies. They exist on our phones?!

The answer is complex, and a signal that our relationship with the things we own is shifting. What we’re seeing is a cultural unbundling of ownership, and that presents new opportunities and responsibilities for brands.

Back in the 2010s, platforms captured our attention with exciting services, free products and never-ending upgrades. When these models first appeared, the ease of access was unlike anything anyone had experienced before. Suddenly, we had a seemingly infinite number of intangible networks, playlists, books, films, and games at our fingertips. It was the entry into a new era of abundance. No individual could ever own (or want to own) the entire Spotify music catalogue, so it seemed like a good deal to pay to access a limitless digital jukebox. But this digital abundance doesn’t translate into our physical worlds.

Our modern identities have long been shaped by what we possess and what we keep close. Whether that’s the house we live in or the car we drive. Over time however, the ‘big’ things in our life – home, education and healthcare – have become more expensive than ever. As a result, it’s harder to benchmark success on previous generations’ standards.  

So, what does this mean for brands? The challenge is acknowledging that ‘to own’ is different to what it once was. It’s no longer just about what we hold in our hands or what we accumulate; it’s about participation. That’s the new proof of belonging.

In the ethereal world of content, attention is currency, and subscription models are commonplace. We’re aware of the shift. We can’t do much, though, as we are hooked in and reliant on the ease these models offer. Some brands are responding to this with a nod to techno dread.

Take Polaroid's recent OOH campaign. It successfully takes aim at our collective fatigue with phones, tapping into what we’ve all felt at this point – instead of capturing every moment, get more people to live in it. Anyone who has looked back at old photo albums knows the power of a physical photo. It’s priceless.

The message works; it’s receiving a lot of praise. But it could go one step further, be a little bolder. Physical possessions aren’t just ‘things’. They shape our identity, create a sense of belonging and most importantly, have the power to transport us back in time to the nostalgia of past lives.

Moments didn’t used to come with Terms & Conditions; we didn’t use to have to pay somebody else for them. What if brands leaned further into this? Into the visceral feelings that objects like Polaroids can spark? A bolder insight for this campaign could be – instead of renting memories, own them.

In a digital-first world, physical products and experiences stand out as anchors of memory and identity. While minimalism and decluttering are cultural trends, there’s tension — we still crave things that matter. For brands that want to zig where other’s zag, consider these three re-frames:

• How might you position your product as ‘the one thing worth keeping’?
• How might you embrace curated permanence? (It’s not about striving to own lots of things, but important things).
• How might you help customers make meaning through what they choose to hold onto?

As displays of wealth and opulence become increasingly viewed as out of touch (Bezos’ Venice wedding), brands who understand the maddening and mundane reality of our lives will build stronger connection with their audience. To emotionally resonate, acknowledge the overwhelm, the re-focus on our everyday. Real resonates.

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