Alexander Senning

Alexander Senning

Alexander Senning


Ich glaube, dass Marken gewinnen, weil Menschen sie wollen, nicht weil sie sie kennen. Begehrlichkeit entsteht nicht aus Reichweite, sondern aus Haltung, Konsequenz und dem Mut, für etwas zu stehen. In über 18 Jahren internationaler Erfahrung habe ich Marken neu aufgestellt, globale Kampagnen geführt und Teams aufgebaut, die eine Marke nicht nur sichtbar machen, sondern begehrenswert.

I believe brands win because people want them, not because people know them. Desire does not come from reach. It comes from having a point of view and the nerve to hold it. In more than 18 years across international markets I have repositioned brands, led global campaigns and built the teams that make a brand not just visible, but wanted.

我相信,品牌之所以胜出,是因为人们想要它,而不是因为人们知道它。渴望并非来自曝光,而是来自鲜明的主张、始终如一的坚持,以及为之承担的勇气。在十八年以上的国际经验中,我重塑过品牌,主导过全球营销战役,也组建过让品牌不只是被看见、而是被渴望的团队。


Alexander Senning

Campaign storytelling: the story as a structure

Zwei kleine Silhouetten überqueren einen Zebrastreifen in einem hellen Lichtfeld, ringsum tiefer Schatten und lange Schlagschatten, Sinnbild für Storytelling in Kampagnen

KI-generiertes BildAI-generated image人工智能生成的图片

Campaign storytelling is the most used and least delivered term in marketing. Almost every brief asks for a story. Almost every presentation claims to have one. And almost every campaign I have seen in recent years turned out to be a sequence of images with a line underneath. That is not a story. That is a visual with copy.

  • A story is a structure, not a tone of voice.
  • Decorating is not narrating.
  • Without conflict a campaign stays empty.
  • What can be measured is the effect, not the story.

Why campaign storytelling so often stays empty

I made the mistake myself with campaign storytelling. One season we had a campaign that had everything on paper: an origin, a craft, and a person who embodied both. We photographed him, we used his name, we wrote a paragraph about him. Nothing stuck. The reason was banal and it stayed with me for a long time: we reported on him instead of letting him do something. A character who decides nothing is not a character, it is a motif.

That is exactly where the weakness sits. In most businesses campaign storytelling is understood as tone of voice rather than as structure. The language gets warmer, people replace product in the frame, the copy moves into the first person. All of that changes the surface and none of the substance. A story only exists when there is a tension that has to be resolved, and when the brand plays a necessary role in that resolution. If the brand is interchangeable, the story is decoration.

The effectiveness research is clearer on this point than marketing would like it to be. The Creative Effectiveness Ladder developed by Cannes Lions and WARC sorts campaigns by the kind of effect they produce, and across thousands of analysed cases it shows the same pattern: work aimed only at short-term response almost never reaches the upper rungs. Anyone who wants a lasting effect needs a narrative that carries beyond the flight of a single activity.

Five questions I use to test a campaign story

When an idea for campaign storytelling is presented to me, I do not judge on taste. I ask five questions, and all of them came out of campaigns that did not work.

  • Conflict. Is there anything here that is not self-evident? A story without resistance is a description. Most campaigns describe a condition in which everything is already fine.
  • Necessity. Could another brand tell the same story? If so, you are telling it on behalf of the category.
  • Durability. Does the narrative carry across three seasons or only across one flight? That is the hardest question because it rules out the comfortable answer.
  • Transferability. Does it work without sound, without copy, and in six seconds? Anything that only works in the long cut does not work.
  • Next step. What does a person do afterwards? A story that suggests no action was entertainment funded by the brand.

These five questions are my filter for campaign storytelling. They do not replace creativity, but they prevent the most expensive kind of work: the kind that pleases the room and triggers nothing outside it. How I assess creative work more broadly, without sliding into a debate about taste, I have described elsewhere.

The difference between narrating and decorating

For campaign storytelling there is a simple test I now apply in every creative meeting. Take the story and remove the brand. If something remains that a person would tell a friend, you have a narrative. If nothing remains, you had decoration. In my experience roughly half of all presented ideas fail that test, regardless of how well they are made.

The second test is less comfortable. Ask what is at stake in the story. In a great many campaigns nothing is at stake, because nobody wanted to take a risk. Brands that do risk something tell stories about decisions that could have gone the other way: a material that costs more than it needs to, a production that could have been moved, a product that was taken out of the range. Points like that are awkward in approval and strong in effect.

Campaign storytelling therefore rarely fails on the creative side. It fails in the approval chain. Every stage that makes a story smoother takes away precisely the thing that made it worth telling. What is left is a film nobody objects to and nobody remembers. Anyone who wants to change that has to reorganise the approval, not rewrite the brief.

What can actually be measured about a story

The most common objection to campaign storytelling is that the effect cannot be proven. That is only partly true for the question of what a brand means and not true at all for behaviour. How far someone gets into a film, whether they watch it a second time, whether the brand is recognised without its logo, whether it appears in search alongside the subject, all of that can be collected. What is usually missing is the willingness to hold those numbers against a creative decision.

For campaign storytelling I therefore separate two levels. The first shows whether the narrative lands at all, and it is allowed to correct the media execution. The second shows whether the brand is growing, and it moves in quarters. Anyone who queries the second level weekly gets noise and then decides on noise. On one campaign we nearly stopped after two weeks, completion rate was low and repeat views were unusually high. We let it run. The effect arrived in the third month.

Where campaign storytelling runs into limits

There are two cases in which I advise against large narratives. The first is a product that does not redeem the story. A strong narrative raises the drop, and a mediocre product inside an ambitious story looks weaker afterwards than it did before. The second is an organisation without stamina. A narrative replaced after one quarter is not a narrative, it is an advertisement. Brands that start again every six months never build anything that carries beyond the flight.

Conversely, campaign storytelling carries furthest where a brand has something to explain that cannot be expressed in a price. An uncommon construction, a decision against the easier route, an origin with a real reason behind it. Arguments like that almost always lose in pure product communication and almost always win inside a narrative.

In the end campaign storytelling is a leadership question rather than a craft question. It is not decided in the concept but in the willingness to hold a story across several quarters, not to smooth it out in approval, and not to replace it after the first weak week. Do that and you get a brand people recognise. Fail to do it and you get good films with no memory attached.