“Fast Times” just released their top 10 business books for the year and Rob Walker’s Buying In was second on the list.

Amazon’s starred review says:

Brands are dead. Advertising no longer works. Weaned on TiVo, the Internet, and other emerging technologies, the short-attention-span generation has become immune to marketing. Consumers are “in control.” Or so we’re told.

In Buying In, New York Times Magazine “Consumed” columnist Rob Walker argues that this accepted wisdom misses a much more important and lasting cultural shift. As technology has created avenues for advertising anywhere and everywhere, people are embracing brands more than ever before–creating brands of their own and participating in marketing campaigns for their favorite brands in unprecedented ways. Increasingly, motivated consumers are pitching in to spread the gospel virally, whether by creating Internet video ads for Converse All Stars or becoming word-of-mouth “agents” touting products to friends and family on behalf of huge corporations. In the process, they–we–have begun to funnel cultural, political, and community activities through connections with brands.

Walker explores this changing cultural landscape–including a practice he calls “murketing,” blending the terms murky and marketing–by introducing us to the creative marketers, entrepreneurs, artists, and community organizers who have found a way to thrive within it. Using profiles of brands old and new, including Timberland, American Apparel, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Red Bull, iPod, and Livestrong, Walker demonstrates the ways in which buyers adopt products, not just as consumer choices, but as conscious expressions of their identities.

Part marketing primer, part work of cultural anthropology, Buying In reveals why now, more than ever, we are what we buy–and vice versa.

I’m halfway through and enjoying the book tremendously. I would simply argue that murketing is not a new concept but is as old as commerce itself. Anyone else ever been asked by someone if they can bring over a pizza only to discover that the real agenda was not breaking bread but a sales presentation? My personal experience with that exact scenario, probably atypical, was as bad an example of murketing as you’ll ever witness.

But whether done online or as a door-to-door visit; whether done well (which probably means sincerely or with the appearance of sincerity) or poorly (you tricked me into thinking you cared about me but it sure appears that you only want to sell me something); whether the starting point is as a provider or purchaser of the goods or service; the blending of who we are with what we offer – murketing – is perhaps the most proven form of selling and marketing ever known.

A man known as the “greatest salesman in the world” (think of the Og Mandino classic by that same name) was also a great example of a murketer. St. Paul was nearly obsessed with defending his sincerity in sharing the gospel – to the point that he maintained his trade as a tent maker so that no one would accuse him of being a money grubber. A typical self-defining statement from Paul can be found in 2 Corinthians 4:2 (The Message):

We refuse to wear masks and play games. We don’t maneuver and manipulate behind the scenes. And we don’t twist God’s Word to suit ourselves. Rather, we keep everything we do and say out in the open, the whole truth on display, so that those who want to can see and judge for themselves in the presence of God.

The prevailing definitions of murketing in Buying In is “marketing that parades as non-marketing” – which sounds a lot more like something from Machiavelli’s The Prince than Paul’s letter to the Corinthians! At it’s best, murketing is selling something you have sincerely bought into.

But no matter what direction you tackle the concept of murketing – a technique to be learned, a ploy to be wise to, an interesting study of the Internet and emerging sales behavior or a “same old, same old” yawn – it’s hard to refute the notion that the best selling in life comes from those who have most bought into that which they are trying to sell.

That’s why we like our personal trainers to be fit, our dessert chefs to be plump, and our preachers to be holy.

Now, about that pizza I was bringing over!