EoB #7: Flyover States

Astute EoB subscribers may notice that this week’s issue is (quite) late. I’ve spent much of the week flying from coast to coast and cramming in maximum face time at a company on-site. I’m home now, with a newsletter for you to read.

While on the plane(s) this week I thought quite a bit about the aptly-named flyover states below me. During my multi-month road trip through the southeast last year, I fell in love with many of the less glamorous parts of the country. When I’d describe my planned route to friends and coworkers “Why the hell would you go to (insert city/state)??” was a common question.

The more I explored, the more I identified with Sarah Kendzior’s 2013 op-ed, “The View From Flyover Country.” Kendzior speaks specifically about her experience living in St. Louis, but I find this sentiment to be true of most of flyover country. It’s certainly true of my new hometown, Richmond, which people often have a strong reaction to when I mention it. (When I had previously told people that I was considering Birmingham, AL as a new home, the reactions were even stronger.)

This skepticism that middle America might not be horrifically dangerous or horrifically boring is a somewhat recent phenomenon. The Great American Road Trip was a popular way to travel and sight-see from the 1920s automobile boom through the 60s, often traversing directly through the heartland.

Now that the flyover state stereotype exists, it’s fascinating that we, as a country, are so quick to dismiss whole states as being worthlessly redneck while cities like Nashville and Austin thrive based on their (mostly fake) folksy, country vibe. Self-proclaimed “travel fanatics” flock to cities like Rome and San Francisco but are uninterested in exploring middle America. To me, the lack of interest in these states all comes down to a marketing and messaging problem.

Selling A State (Of Mind)

I was an Advertising major in college (the branding obsession was early and strong) and to this day the hardest assignment I ever worked on - collegiate or professional - centered on this very problem. In COMM 421, Advertising Creative Strategies, we were assigned weekly “clients” and products to develop into briefs and market-ready creatives. I ate it up, living my wildest Don Draper dreams, UNTIL we were assigned the client group that still haunts me: flyover states.

Our professor passed around a hat with the 15 least desirable states, measured by some calculation of travel revenue, population, and, essentially, vibes. They were almost entirely agriculturally-focused heartland states. The assignment? Create a tourism strategy, complete with campaigns, to drive interest, improve the state’s reputation, and grow its tourism revenue.

I watched as my classmates drew states like Missouri, Nebraska, Indiana, and Ohio - the latter to significant booing. I held my breath and reached in, pulling out a slip of paper that sealed my fate: IOWA. Woof.

This past week I asked via the Extremely On Brand Instagram account which state followers would never visit, and to no surprise, the states named were an almost identical match to the list my classmates and I were drawing from in 2008. The top 3 least desirable states were Arkansas, Nebraska, and my old enemy - Iowa. States so undesirable that a full two-thirds of respondents said they wouldn’t even go if the trip was completely free.

We Can’t Stop Here - This Is Bat Flyover Country!

Flyover country wasn’t always a phrase, let alone a pejorative one. The term entered the cultural vernacular in 1980 when it was used in several pieces of journalism, as well as being listed in the Oxford English Dictionary. A March 1980 article in Esquire may be the earliest use, when journalist Thomas McGuane begins, “Because we live in flyover country, we try to figure out what is going on elsewhere by subscribing to magazines.”

Interestingly, when “flyover” is used as a negative descriptor, it’s often a native of that area using it to describe how they think coastal residents think about their home. In other words, as lexicographer Ben Zimmer says, “It’s a stereotype of other people’s stereotypes.”

So, how have two of the most quintessentially flyover states tried to win hearts, minds, and tourism dollars? Through two very different strategies - one markedly more convincing and compelling than the other. Let’s dive in…

Iowa: Fields of Opportunity

When I saw Iowa had cracked the top 3 of my informal poll, I was momentarily vindicated that this state did, in fact, suck and making it sound appealing is, actually, really hard. My disastrous tourism campaign (my lowest graded project of the semester!) focused on what, at the time, were the top 3 tourist attractions in the state:

• The Dyer-Botsford Historical House and Doll Museum (home to over 2,500 antique dolls!)

• The Field of Dreams field

• The University of Iowa Hawkeyes

These are still some of the biggest attractions in the state, and the Hawkeyes were roundly whooped last night by my beloved alma mater, so that tells you what we’re working with. In addition to focusing on brick-and-mortar attractions, I also made the mistake of trying to position Iowa in a way that would be appealing to the upper-middle class coastal residents, who I figured had the most dollars to spend on travel. I know now that trying to come up with reasons for someone from NYC or LA to visit Iowa is a fool’s errand.

A quick review of the Travel Iowa website shows that the state’s own strategy today is not much different from the campaign I designed. One of the featured trip ideas on the homepage is a “Fun On The Farm” day, showing a child feeding a calf with a bottle of milk. Cute - but not compelling enough to book a trip, especially when most states on the East Coast have a dairy or creamery where you can do the same thing. Barn quilts and tractor museums are other activities highlighted under Things To Do. In short - a big yawn. There’s no real hook.

Even the images are pretty much what you’d expect: scenic barns, a guy climbing a stack of hay bales, and pumpkins. Perhaps most troublingly, in a small section that calls out “fun” activities in the state they’ve included a picture of a Bloody Mary with the tagline “Wine-d down in Pella.” (A wine-based Bloody? Is this an Iowa thing? I hope to god not.) When you click through, Pella is advertised with the tagline “For the wino…”

In an attempt to create some seasonal interest, the state tourism board designed a Fall Activity Bingo Card but clearly struggled to fill all the squares. Suggested activities include things like drink a pumpkin spice latte and take in the fall colors - all things one can do without leaving their home state. As a now seasoned marketer, I would’ve scrapped the whole project. Selling Iowa is a Sisyphean task that clearly hasn’t gotten easier with time.

Nebraska: We Don’t Coast.

On the completely other end of the advertising spectrum is Nebraska. While I can’t say I’ve ever felt compelled to visit, one look at their tourism site has my curiosity sufficiently piqued. “Visit Nebraska,” the site implores, before caveating “Honestly, it’s not for everyone.”

Wow, ok - really playing hard to get! I’m intrigued.

A little further down the page, next to photos of people having a great time on a river, they tease “Nothing to see or do here. Except all of these things.”

Dang - going right for the FOMO jugular! *Mortal Kombat voice* Finish him!

But these aren’t just pithy sayings. The Nebraska Tourism Board follows up with some great activity examples, really leaning into the offbeat, backwoods vibe of the state. “Round up some friends, stock a cooler and climb into a livestock watering tank: you're going tanking on one of our scenic, gentle rivers.” Hell yeah, we are. This sounds amazing.

The imagery and copy sucked me deeper into the Nebraska rabbit hole - did you know that they have a geologic park that looks like the moon? Or that 1 million sandhill cranes stop in Nebraska every year during their migration?! The Things To Do page encourages you to “find your weird in Nebraska.” Honestly, I think I just might.

Incredibly, very little of Nebraska’s tourism site focuses on Omaha, the state’s largest city, or Lincoln, the capital. Selling either (or both) wouldn’t be a bad move, but by highlighting the rest of the state first and most heavily, they create the impression that there’s so much to do that the cities barely crack the top 10 things to see.

But don’t worry too much about these major metros not getting state tourism board love. Omaha has launched its own “keep (city) weird”-style campaign with its slogan “We don’t coast.” Amazing. Perfection. No notes. They’ve even got a Chamber of Business-sponsored magazine by the same name that makes Omaha look, frankly, really freaking fun.

Becoming The CEO of Corn

So, what is Nebraska doing so incredibly right that Iowa is completely whiffing it on? Both face many of the same challenges and are promoting many of the same activities. Let’s look at some examples side-by-side.

Both Nebraska and Iowa advertise prairie glamping - but one state makes it look like an incredible, Instagram-worthy adventure, while the other makes it look like an Amish homestay program.

Both states are heavily anchored by agritourism. But while Nebraska leans into a cowboy cosplay opportunity, complete with your own quarterhorse and boisterous border collie, Iowa highlights the aforementioned bottle-fed calf.

The copy on Nebraska’s site is also punchy, witty, and delightfully self-deprecating. I love an underdog who can take - and make - a joke. The Tourism site positions Nebraska as a wild place, with people who know a good time when they see one. Iowa, on the other hand, plays it far too safe.

If I could redesign my COMM 421 project (and offer some advice to the state of Iowa) here’s what I’d do differently:

• Get honest about the target audience. No one is going to fly from Seattle or LA to go to Iowa. Focus on neighboring states and major metros in driving distance. Don’t forget about your home crowd either. Intra-state tourism dollars are just as green as those from outside the state’s borders.

• Embrace your USPs (unique selling points). If you’re a state that people think is boring and backwards, making it the tongue-in-cheek focus of your marketing is a brilliant play. Reclaim the pejoratives and own what makes you different. In Nebraska’s case, it might be tempting to focus on Omaha to show that you have a legitimate big city worthy of tourism, but Omaha can’t compete with near-by metros like Denver and Kansas City. But Denver doesn’t have tanking!

• Visual assets matter. You’re selling a vacation destination - make it look incredible. From massive flocks of sandhill cranes to tanking on the river to the lunar landscape of Toadstool Geologic Park, the National Geographic-quality photos bring the best of Nebraska to life. Iowa needs to level up their visual game.

In a nutshell, much like the iconic CEO of Corn, Nebraska isn’t afraid to be publicly jazzed about something traditionally seen as kind of boring and lame.

Nebraska: Not everyone has to like it to be the best. I hope Iowa can embrace this strategy too.

Look at this! It’s corn links!

• I’m a die-hard West Virginia evangelist and think everyone should visit at least once. Embrace the Appalachian outdoors and stay in a treehouse or a converted school bus with a wood-burning stove outside of Shepherdstown. (Owner Will Sutherland wrote the book on Skoolies and is a delight IRL!)

• Speaking of the Wild and Wonderful state - they’ll pay you $12k to move there and work remotely. This is an incredible offer that I would have seriously considered if I hadn’t just finished unpacking in Regular Virginia when I learned about it. Several other flyover locales have similar programs, including Tulsa, OK; Muscle Shoals, AL; and Mattoon, IL.

• One of flyover country’s biggest selling points? Cheap Old Houses. 

• If you decide to make the move to Muscle Shoals, look where you could live. While neither cheap nor old, it does come fully furnished, including the Baby Grand. This one is more reasonable and less than 10 minutes from Muscle Shoals Sound Studio. Zillow really has me rethinking Richmond… 😮‍💨

• The best Greek food I’ve ever eaten was in Birmingham, AL.

• I wanted to find a cheeky little song on Spotify about living in flyover country, but then Jason Aldean’s “Flyover States” came up in the search and ruined my day. Nothing chaps my ass like a dude who makes over $30M a year and routinely posts pictures of himself flying private, all while shitting on people who fly first class. (I stand with Jenna Lyons - IYKYK). As with all his songs, 0/10 do not listen.

• I did find a jaunty little tune after I recovered from my rage blackout - enjoy Pokey LaFarge’s Central Time.

• If you’ve somehow never seen the viral CEO of Corn video I linked above, I cannot encourage/beg you enough to watch it. Your life will be 1,000 times better. I hope you have a corn-tastic day! 🌽