We're All Deviants

Meet Robert Burns. Burns is a building maintenance supervisor at Windham Tech, a state vocational high school in Windham, CT. He's 53 years old and married. He has three grown children and owns a black Lhasa Apso, as well as a single-family home, which has a porch and a lawn. He stands 5 feet 8 inches, weighs 185 pounds and wears a size 10-1/2 shoe. He will, on occasion, pee in the shower.

Individually, each of these statistics is the rule rather than the exception among the entire U.S. population. In fact, Kevin O'Keefe, author of the 2005 book “The Average American,” lists another 129 characteristics that fall within the bounds of normalcy for all Americans. What's exceptional about Burns is that, in a nation of more than 281 million people, he is the only citizen who embodies all 140 of them.

So what does all this have to do with direct marketing? Well, aside from being a fun way to see how criteria gone wild can result in the ultimate segment — the one truly “normal” American — it's a great reminder that marketing segmentation is the science of finding which of 281,421,905 abnormal Americans make up the best potential market.

Stop a moment here, and consider Robert Burns' characteristics. Before cracking O'Keefe's book, my image of the average American was that of a NASCAR-loving Midwestern soccer mom in her mid-30s. I suspect this wasn't far off from most folks' commonly held view.

So what happened?

A lot of math. According to O'Keefe, the average American “didn't have to hit all the averages but would instead fall within the majority” of those criteria that have a range. At 53, Burns is nearly a full generation removed from the average American's age — which, as of the 2000 census, hovered around 36. But his age is within an acceptable level of standard deviation from that middle point. (Separately, O'Keefe notes that the average age of all Americans is mirrored by the average age of people on the Federal Bureau of Investigation's “Most Wanted” list.)

O'Keefe acknowledges that there were 6 million more women than men in the United States in 2000. But he did not want to eliminate all males from his quest for the quintessential average American. Had O'Keefe found otherwise identical candidates, he would choose the woman as his representative, in deference to women being the majority gender.

The other characteristics O'Keefe eventually chose, such as political leanings and propensities for automobile-based transportation, proximity to Wal-Marts and McDonald's, consumer durables owned and corrective lens use, among others, are more in line with expectations.

O'Keefe peppers the book with observations as to how average Americans in pop culture, ranging from “Father Knows Best” and “Leave It to Beaver” to the Joe Walsh song “Ordinary Average Guy,” reflect his findings. Here's one he doesn't include: Longtime fans of TV's “The Simpsons” may recognize a lot of the characteristics O'Keefe attributes to the average American in Homer Simpson.

Each chapter starts with a dwindling number of prospects for average Americanhood, based on how the preceding chapter's findings narrowed his search. O'Keefe then describes a visit to one of several statistically average communities, including those in Nevada, Maryland, Kansas and even Hawaii.

When O'Keefe settles in each location, he interviews people regarding characteristics the average American might embody. There's a sense of whimsy in his choices: He spoke with a magician who bills himself as Myklar the Ordinary; an SUV-race coordinator who hands out prizes not only to the race's winner but to the entrant whose average time is closest to that for all participants; a candidate for President of the United States who runs every four years on the Average American Party ticket; and a cantankerous Brooklyn retiree named Harry Average.

There are a few meat-and-potatoes interviews as well, such one with a census bureau statistician, as well as a chat with pollster George Gallup Jr., whom O'Keefe describes as “the son of the father of the average American.”

As O'Keefe traveled, he added religion, sports played or watched, leisure activities enjoyed and political characteristics, among others, to his initial list. He then used publicly available data to determine what the average, or in many cases the average range, of these traits was among Americans.

By the last chapter, which introduced Burns, O'Keefe's list of prospects was whittled down to 2,000 individuals, while his original list of 16 attributes — citizenship; lives in same home as five years previously; resident of native state; resides in statistically determined nation's most average community; holds family extremely or very important; high school graduate; currently in paid labor force or working toward it; has at least one married couple in home; has children; usually in bed before midnight; believes in God; is Christian; is respectful of others' religions; attends church at least once a month; holds religion very important in own life; and is respectful of all races — had grown to the final list of 140.

If Burns is the only truly normal individual — and he clinched the title, in O'Keefe's eyes, by not being overly anxious to capitalize on the designation — that leaves a nation of deviants as potential marketing targets.

Happy hunting.