FAM Tour (n.)
Short for “familiarization tour.” A complimentary and often financially incentivized trip organized by a destination, DMO, or tourism bureau to acquaint professionals such as travel agents, influencers, bloggers, and journalists with what the region has to offer.
As anyone who knows me well can attest, I ended the fiscal year of 2024 in March extremely burned out and bitter. After suffering through an extremely long string of poorly managed FAM tours and government-related insanity, I was starting to become an extremely toxic person. As my attitude toward the incompetence that plagues the inbound travel promotion industry grew increasingly negative, I knew something had to change. Being an expert digital marketer, I simply could no longer tolerate the utter ineptitude of the local governments and the ad agencies that take advantage of their lack of understanding.
On one hand, I guess I shouldn’t really be complaining. After a decade of producing content, I had become one of the go-to names when companies were looking to cast content creators. (I personally hate referring to myself as an “influencer.”) In any given week, I’d receive two or three inquiries from marketing agencies in Japan asking if I was interested in creating content for an area they represented, in exchange for an agreed-upon rate. From the outside, I was “living the dream,” so to speak, but all was not right in the domain of Donny. I was quickly losing patience with these fools and their naive clients and something had to give before I went insane.
Originally, I never intended to take any of these influencer marketing gigs, as anyone can see by glancing at my earlier writings. Alas, during the pandemic, I changed my mind about accepting paid partnerships following a few exchanges with a close friend. After all, the cash was going to SOMEONE anyway, so I figured I might as well accept and use my digital marketing skills to ensure that, no matter what nonsense came up, the promotion would still somehow be a success. Also, I figured I could funnel the FAM funds into the pro bono consulting I do for Japanese craftsmen and help cover the costs I incur when traveling to meet them.
In retrospect, the problem with this arrangement was that I had many more marketing reps to my name than the people I was dealing with and was therefore far, far, FAR better at doing the other end of the job than any of the agencies contacting me were. As a result, every stupid thing that a staff member let slide through due to their client being an out-of-touch geezer in the boonies—who had never touched social media in their life—rubbed me the wrong way. Trip after trip, this incessant barrage of missteps and oversights was stressing me out to the point where I’d be willing to pay THEM just to get these imbeciles to screw off.
What kind of bullshit am I talking about here? Well, how about the time when the local government expected me to introduce Osaka, Kobe, Himeji, Sakai, and even Mt. Koya all within the same 30-second Instagram reel (all while ensuring that each of the five was fairly represented, of course). Or how about the time that an entire entourage of JTB staff could only be described as “trying to do their very best to be in every single frame.” No seriously, we’re all here to shoot something that’s one-take-or-bust, and they’re standing right behind the tuna harvesting show we’re all trying our best to film.
You’d think I’m exaggerating here, but if you get a few drinks in any of my fellow Japan content creators, they’ll tell you the same. Put rather bluntly, the whole influencer marketing charade for inbound travel is basically a big Ponzi scheme where agencies report vanity KPIs that don’t actually mean anything to government bureaucrats who just want to avoid rocking the proverbial boat. No one involved in this chain gives a damn about actual ROI or whether or not people take action from the insane amount of taxpayer money being wasted on badly organized FAM trips.
Bureaucrats & Sycophantic Agencies
Given that this is going to be one HELL of a fiery 40th birthday rant, I guess I should pause here and describe for everyone how the world of influencer marketing works in the Japan inbound tourism industry. To begin with, the local governments will meet in April and plan for a few months how to use their annual budget for the upcoming fiscal year (this is why you will NEVER see any cherry blossom sponsored content). By mid-summer, a roadmap for the year will usually be done and the first flight of RFPs — requests for proposals — will go out to the public for people to bid on.
From there, various agencies in Japan will work to put together a proposal. Oftentimes, it’s the big names like Dentsu and Hakuhodo that will win the bid as they know best how to write a pitch that will make sense for the guys at the local governments, as here, form matters much more than function. What’s more, each project is a one-off, whereby the firm awarded the work has no long-term interest in the actual impact of the job so long as the nonsensical KPIs are met. Frankly, it’s essentially the marketing equivalent of a “one-night pump and dump” rendezvous from the local dive bar.
This problem is further exacerbated by the fact that, in many cases, the companies like Dentsu and Hakuhodo (as well as JTB and HIS) who know how to court local governments often have no actual expertise or interest in doing the very work they are being contracted for. Instead, they will outsource the job to a smaller agency who all too often then again outsources it to another company who actually does have the direct connections with the content creators. The result of this carnival of agency chaos is that each rung of the outsourcing ladder only cares about making the company directly above them happy so they can get their cut of the pie.
In some cases, it’s just the one single agency in the middle, but more often than not, there are several in between the client and the creator. Not only does this make communication up and down the chain impossible when concerns crop up, it also means that everyone involved is adding to the ultimate cost, all while not really adding any additional value to the overall project. In the final analysis, a local government might end up paying ten or even twenty times what the content creator being cast actually makes due to all of the middlemen who add nothing but siphon off a bit of the money for themselves.
Ultimately, when you add in the fact that most FAM tours need to also feature an interpreter as per the terms of the contract, the number of chaperones on any given trip can be upwards of half a dozen or more. Of course, each of these additional members also needs to have their travel costs covered. In the final analysis, the total price tag associated with putting together a FAM is so frighteningly high due to these additional participants that there is no way even a super-viral reel could deliver even a shred of ROAS. It’s nothing short of an insanely irresponsible use of taxpayer money.
As a media buyer and advertiser, I have a keen sense of what an impression should cost online. So, when I see a gang of two agency staff, a government employee, and an interpreter all present to escort just me for five days, I know instantly that the investment of taxpayer funds can’t be justified. Even if I had a post that did millions of views AND landed on the front page of Google, there is no way that I alone can offset the travel costs of five people, plus all of the professional fees for the agencies. The blended CPM of the overall campaign is just way too high and the local government would have infinitely better results if they just ran some ads on Instagram.
Tragically, this is also a bit of a clown show where the paper-pushers at local governments have no idea about social media or the campaigns they are asking agencies to execute on their behalf. As a result, they fall victim to snake oil salesmen at agencies who promise views but ultimately don’t give a damn if people actually visit the region following the delivery of the KPIs and the completion of the contract. It’s the marketing equivalent of a one-night stand on both sides, and doing a good job doesn’t ever guarantee future work. Each interaction is naught but a one-off hookup.
Unfortunately, the FAM troubles don’t stop there. The government goofs and the greedy agencies that take advantage of them are also clueless about the actual execution too. On the local government side, often they are more used to FAMs for travel agents and don’t understand the needs of someone coming to film content. Agencies, on the other hand, are often inclined to act like “yes-men” and don’t EVER push back when something is at odds with creating content. The result is the age-old idiom of blind leading the blind, thereby creating awkward situations where the creator needs to be an ass to get what they need.
Perhaps the best example I have of this was when the Tokyo Convention & Visitors Bureau reached out to me via one of the worst agencies I’ve dealt with to date. The objective was to promote Tokyo’s volunteer guide program. This free service allows people to get more depth out of areas like Mt. Takao, as the guide can provide historical context. So, while it’s a service I am in favor of, we ultimately ended up at an impasse on-site, as the volunteers didn’t want to be on camera and I don’t often appear in my posts — something that the agency staff should have understood the implications of well in advance of selecting me, let alone the day of.
Another example of an agency completely dropping the ball is from my trip to Hokuriku for JNTO at the end of last year. When we visited the Ichijodani Asakura Family Historic Ruins in Fukui Prefecture, they had arranged for us to be guided around for 90 MINUTES! While it’s good and all to get the backstory, this arrangement made it all but impossible for the creators to get the shots they needed. As we were all trying to get our shot in front of the iconic gate there, the guide was literally trying to usher us along to the next spot. I get that this is her job, but we are here for content, so why is no one from the agency side handling the situation?
While I know I may sound like an entitled snob when I say all of this, the point is that creators like myself are often somehow obstructed from filming the content we need by the very people who are paying us to do so. Sure, there is no malice or ill intent here, but the sheer incompetence of people who supposedly should know influencer marketing and be there to facilitate a good shoot can’t be overlooked. It’s their job to constantly be checking in to see how they can help the creator get what he or she needs. Otherwise, they are a cost center that is wasting tax money.
On Japan’s FAM Trip “Black Box”
As a Japan travel content creator, one of the hardest parts of vetting opportunities in this industry is the fact that details are never set at the start. Oftentimes, the imbeciles at the agencies will reach out with just the dates, location, and budget set in stone. Since the actual core of the FAM tour has yet to be decided, it’s easy to say HELL YES to visiting somewhere I’ve always wanted to go, only to find out the day before departing that it’s all about food, as was the case with this trip to Wakayama last fall. The realization that it’s a poor fit comes far too late to do anything about it.
Even a cursory glance at what I post should make it obvious that I rarely — if ever — feature food in my content. Unlike a lot of other potential candidates out there in Japan, you won’t find recent posts of restaurants or gourmet dining anywhere on my feed. To even a beginner marketer, it should be blatantly clear that a FAM tour centered around local food culture isn’t a good fit for me. But nope! The idiots at these agencies only look at follower count and where a creator is from, as if that says anything about their audience’s interests or demographics.
Far too many times, I’ve said yes to an opportunity that looked great at the start, only to find out that there are a number of items on the itinerary that just aren’t going to make the final cut. This is fine as long as the client or agency is somewhat understanding, but every now and then you get some silly sticklers who try to insist that I need to include that random Spanish restaurant in Minato Mirai that we had lunch at on the third day (hi, HIS girls). I mean, why was this even part of the plan to begin with? Who OKs this shit? Wait—don’t answer that…
All of this is to say that far more often than I’d like to admit, I’ve found myself between a rock and a hard place. After already signing away my soul for a FAM, only then do I learn to my horror that I would have never agreed to it if I had known the entire agenda from the beginning. Honestly, nothing sucks more than being on location and only then learning that something like a washi-making experience or a hotel check-in scene is a no-go for me since I prefer being behind the camera and can’t convey those concepts very well.
Seeing as creator mismatches could be easily avoided if anyone did their homework beyond just looking at follower count, these kinds of situations really stress me out and take all of the fun out of travel and making content in the first place. Vetting a creator’s style and deeply considering the consequences of how that aligns with what the client wants promoted is one of the most basic tenets of influencer marketing. But, as noted before, no one on either the local government or agency side has any idea what they are doing when it comes to using creators.
Though I’ll admit there are some good people out there who are genuinely trying their best, this industry somehow just can’t seem to wrap its head around the difference between a FAM for travel agents and a shoot for content. We live in the age of the internet and ChatGPT. I don’t need to listen to a 60-minute lecture or get my hands dirty making something. I need to film a handful of 3–5 second clips that I can stitch together for Instagram and TikTok. And, especially for me, I need to shoot cinematic scenery with no one in it. That takes some serious time and patience to set up the shot.
Why no one thinks of this is beyond me. Perhaps the agencies DO know better but just kowtow to the whims of clients so they can get their cash and jet the morning after their marketing equivalent of a one-night stand. What I can say is that I am fully fed up with being in situations like the one mentioned in the opening, where I have only one chance to get the shot of the chef carving up the tuna in Kii-Katsuura but there are a bunch of JTB staff standing in the most conspicuous place possible. Why the hell are they in the frame, and why do I need to be the one to make them move?
Were this a TV or magazine shoot for any of the major media outlets in Japan, everyone would immediately understand that the purpose of the visit is for the shooting of photos or videos. I mean, I should know! After all, I did a decade at a listed PR agency in Japan (that I’m still close with as an external vendor) before going full-time freelance a few years back. Somehow, though, when it’s influencers instead of media companies, thinking goes out the window and no one bothers to pay attention to the most important element of all—filming the clips the creator requires.
Whenever I attend an influencer shoot as my fractional CMO alter ego, I am always looking at how to help the creator make better content. I’m constantly on the hunt for angles, better lighting, etc., while also ensuring that the client doesn’t ruin things by walking into the frame, talking while the influencer chosen is trying to do a voice-over, or any of the other various ways someone can spoil a shoot. Maybe it’s obvious to me because I make content myself, but this type of behavior should be standard practice.
What I Plan to Do Instead of FAMs
To be perfectly blunt and open with you all, the projects I did last year really traumatized the hell out of me. At the end of the day, the expert performance marketer side of my identity just can’t stand this level of buffoonery. Since the alternative for someone of my temperament is becoming bitterly toxic due to the ineptitude of the regional governments and their vendors, I’m going to spare everyone by just declining the majority of FAM trip invitations from here on out. I just can’t think of a way to play the game and not get grim again about the government halfwits.
When I look back at just how burned out the 2024 fiscal year made me, it really wasn’t until around May, when I visited Matsuyama City, that I finally got my mojo back as a creator. Though I kept writing throughout the spring and did a lot of cherry blossom chasing up in northern Japan, the sheer thought of making another reel for Instagram was utterly repulsive to me — let alone one for a sponsored gig. Even now, I still feel overcome with a repugnant sensation whenever one of the dumb dorks at an ad agency reaches out to me about another mismatched project.
Unlike other creators, I have a vibrant career as a freelance media buyer and help a number of Japanese SMEs like Ayu-no-Sato find the success online they deserve as acting CMO. Thanks to the thousands of hours I’ve spent honing my craft and developing my reputation as one of Japan’s best, I actually have too much opportunity on my plate. Don’t get me wrong, this is the kind of problem I am thrilled to have, but it does make juggling them all while participating in nonstop FAM tours kind of difficult. I can do that when traveling solo, but not with five fools chaperoning me.
So, while the cash from creator gigs was a nice way to offset the expenses I incur going to help craftsmen like the kiln Kinzangama in the city of Komatsu, I just can’t stand the thought of doing another poorly run FAM trip. The stress of having to deal with the industry’s insanity is just too much, and I want to get back to focusing on raising awareness of Japan’s many hidden gems. Especially with the government looking to bring upwards of 60 million tourists per year, the only way the country doesn’t break is better destination diversification.
As a way to both fund my mission to save as many struggling Japanese craftsmen as I can with digital transformation and better answer the deluge of requests I get to review travel itineraries, I’m going to be launching two new endeavors in the coming months. The first of these will be a premium community on Skool that will contain countless resources for how to curate the ultimate Japan trip. As I also need to keep in mind Google’s robots when writing, I’ll admit that intra-regional plans are something that is sorely lacking in my current body of work.
Hopefully, the upcoming Skool community will also serve as a place where like-minded travelers can congregate and share their experiences visiting the various off-the-beaten-path locales that I like to cover. Especially as social media moves more and more away from interpersonal connections in favor of algorithmically distributed content, I am starting to see why it’s more important than ever to take people out of their damn doomscrolls and move them into a healthier environment where they can connect and learn about traveling in Japan.
In addition to the Japan travel Skool community, I’m also planning to revive the Our Japan brand from 2021 and publish an in-depth guidebook in the near future for people who prefer to have something more tangible. Though this will cover many of the same itineraries as the Skool, it’s a needed alternative for the lurkers and other individuals who would just rather not join an online group for whatever reason. At the start, it will be digital only, but I am looking into the logistics of print-on-demand already, so let me know if you know somewhere good.
While not technically an “NPO” or anything, any and all proceeds from either the Skool or the guidebook are going to get funneled directly into helping Japanese craftsmen make the leap to the digital age. A few years back, I tried helping by offering to dropship their products internationally with Our Japan at a time when the country was closed to the world. That effort never really got off the ground, though, as it turns out getting Japanese craftsmen to want to make money for free is harder than one might think, and I was unable to get the product volume needed for a mall-style store.
Seeing as the regional tourism boards and the marketing agencies they work with can’t tell their heads from their asses, I think the Skool and guidebook will continue to help me drag Japanese craftsmen into the more expansive world of ecommerce with the funds they generate. As much as I love to offer my assistance for free, I need to bankroll the trips out to meet these people to win their trust somehow, and I already spend every yen I make promoting and making Japan travel content. Without FAM trips, I need another source of funding if I am going to continue to help for free.
While I resisted the idea of monetizing my brand forever in the form of something to sell, I’m just too good at advertising online not to anymore. And with FAM trips no longer being on the table, I need to create a revenue stream that doesn’t demand much more of my already largely accounted-for time. The answer is a win-win solution whereby those interested can get access to a library of handcrafted itineraries as well as a community of other travelers where you can ask me the kinds of questions that are hard to answer in an Instagram DM.
So, since I’ll be funneling any earnings from this endeavor into traveling to remote regions to help struggling craftsmen who are willing to try, anyone who takes either of these two offers will be directly contributing to propping up their legacy. Sadly, as the world has gone digital, traditionally minded makers like Japan’s talented craftsmen have not been able to keep up, as the systems and networks of distribution for their wares have been completely disrupted. Luckily, thanks to the Skool and guidebook, you can help me help them while getting something of immense value in return.
I know now that I can’t save everyone, but there are craftsmen out there who do want to give it one final try before they resign themselves to the inevitable decline. By getting these makers onto a commerce platform like Shopify, they can stop relying on third parties and walk-ins for sales and distribution and unlock the potential of all of Japan. From there, it’s possible to create a positive flywheel of sales such that, with a bit of help, they can avoid the fate that otherwise awaits.
Making Some FAMtastic Exceptions
Before wrapping up this epic rant about influencer marketing in Japan on my 40th birthday and the 10th anniversary of the blog, allow me to end with a quick caveat. While I’ve dropped some real fire and brimstone in this one about the industry for the Japan inbound travel niche, there is one exception that I am making to my NO FAMs rule. Simply put, if I am able to insert myself in a way that I can function as both agency and creator and control the direction of the project, then I am still going to be semi-open to potential collaborations.
Unlike when there is an agency in the middle, direct partnerships allow me to heavily influence how things play out. As a result, the planning is much better when there is no “yes man” marketing firm just trying to hit some vanity KPIs so they can get paid. When connected without a middleman muddling up the magic, projects tend to go much better, as both the creator and the local government understand the ramifications of content style (e.g., a photographer can convey what they need for a good shot). Also, it just cuts down on sycophants in the middle.
A great example of what can happen when a creator is in control is what I did with Akita Inu Tourism last year. Rather than spend more budget on influencer marketing, we opted for just two creators, including myself. We then promoted the posts with the remaining budget, thereby taking their Instagram account from a scant 2,000 followers to well over 10,000. What’s more, this promotion did more than just raise fleeting awareness, as it took people from nebulous online engagers and viewers and converted them into actual followers.
Normally, these kinds of direct government-to-creator arrangements are few and far between (I’ve only had a handful to date). Tragically, even if the staff at a tourism board wanted to, there is often too much red tape and bureaucracy to allow a direct partnership. I won’t delve into the details here, but basically, the creator’s sole proprietorship simply would never pass the review standard for a “reliable vendor,” and thus the only recourse is to turn to agencies — which, as I’ve hopefully outlined thus far, invites the potential for extreme idiocy.
Were I a creator who had a more parasocial relationship with the audience as a result of constantly being on camera, it would be a lot easier to salvage poor itineraries, as I could just use some “Talk-no-Jutsu” to cover up weaknesses in planning. Since I take photos and film cinematic-style reels though, I need to get the right shots, otherwise I don’t have the makings of a post. Given that FAMs that better fit travel agents than content creators are par for the course, I am of the mind that it’s best if I just play my own game — since I financially don’t need the FAM.
A lot of my creator colleagues have wondered why I don’t make my own influencer marketing agency, but the truth of the matter is I wouldn’t touch this industry with a stalk of Arashiyama bamboo. No one actually cares about performance, and even if they did, they have no means of measuring it. So instead, they turn to reportable KPIs. It’s the tourism equivalent of that adage about a drunk man looking for his keys where the streetlight is illuminating because that’s where he can see — despite it not actually being where he lost them in the first place.
No… this industry is rotten to the core and is the result of what happens when you make government bureaucrats become marketers. Is it anyone’s surprise that Japan is simultaneously empty in many places and also suffering from an overtourism problem? If anyone had even a modicum of skill and the desire to drive real outcomes, this problem could be solved in seconds, as Japan has the kind of destination diversity that other countries can only dream of. The only problem is that people don’t know about them due to poor PR, and as a result, no one ventures off the well-worn path.
Anyway, to close this tirade once and for all, the only thing I really care about is that Japan prosper, and more high-caliber tourists who value the country’s culture come and visit. I’m sick and tired of the government goofing itself out of taxpayer money on bad promotions that have no ROI. So rather than rely on them and their agency minions, I am just going to stay in my lane from now on. While I may try to guide a project that is direct back toward bringing actual results here and there (if it’s not already completely scuffed), I am otherwise just done with the OnlyFAMs game.
Until next time travelers…
