Sign up to get full access to all our latest content, research, and network for everything customer contact.

Sounding the "Lunk Alarm" on Planet Fitness' Branding Strategy

Add bookmark
Brian Cantor
Brian Cantor
02/07/2013

Is a man’s refusal to date tall women conceptually more objectionable than a woman’s refusal to date short men?

If a bar advertises $1 beers and also commits itself to green practices, are customers more likely to patronize because they are attracted to discounts or because they care strongly about the environment?

Both seemingly-unrelated questions speak to the heart of Planet Fitness’ flawed branding strategy.

By no means is use of the word "flawed" meant to convey "failure." Planet Fitness has undoubtedly achieved success in both building a brand identity and getting customers in the door. Its marketing, to a large extent, has worked.

But success is not without its negative consequences. Perceived as a binary alternative to failure rather than as a different point on a spectrum, success can blind marketers to strategic shortcomings. It can, preying on "if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it" logic, cause marketers to miss opportunities to address those shortcomings and achieve even greater success.

Regardless of what Planet Fitness’ current income statement and balance sheet say, the organization can be doing significantly better.

Working the Core

Before taking on a more vitriolic, aggressive brand identity, Planet Fitness’ gimmick was simple and innocuous: a more accessible gym that removes common obstacles to getting in shape.

Not comfortable using old, dirty equipment? Planet Fitness largely stocks its facilities with new equipment and keeps everything clean. Not interested in or knowledgeable enough to assemble a complex training regimen? Planet Fitness features a simple, 30-minute circuit designed to conveniently work the key muscle groups. Not looking to shell out hundreds for a gym membership? Planet Fitness offers a base plan that costs only $10/month.

At the heart of Planet Fitness’ policy was its "judgment free" messaging, which, when combined with the aforementioned simplicity, rendered the gym inviting to people of all shapes, sizes and levels of fitness expertise.

People of all shapes, sizes and levels of fitness expertise.

As in, because the gym was so cheap and accessible, it was a viable option for serious fitness enthusiasts (to the extent that they could make due with only a basic assortment of free weights) and first-timers alike.

During my first visit to Planet Fitness, which came when my actual gym was closed for renovation, I bumped into several friends with intense fitness backgrounds; one of whom was a competitive bodybuilder. As for the female side of the equation…let us just say that I might have noticed one or two who were in great shape.

This was not a gym designed specifically for bodybuilders, but with a decent supply of equipment and a $10/month price tag, it was not one that necessarily excluded them either.

Lunk? What a Load of Bunk!

If there were any initial objections to the Planet Fitness model, beyond the offensively-counterproductive notion of having "Free Pizza Nights" at a gym, it was the "Lunk Alarm" present in every facility.

Designed to protect the integrity of Planet Fitness’ inviting, judgment free model, the alarm would sound as a means of calling out anyone who "grunts, drops weights or judges."

This is where the divergence of opinion—and perception—began to emerge.

To even the most hardcore of hardcore lifters, there was nothing inherently unwelcoming about the lunk alarm. Sure, they might prefer some context behind things like "dropping weights," but experienced weightlifters and bodybuilders also find excessive grunting and judging annoying. No matter the facility, there are people who draw unwelcome attention to themselves in the gym, and there are people who get upset about it.

Planet Fitness, however, seemed to have a different conception of its "Lunk Alarm." While it should simply be serving as a universal reminder of poor gym etiquette, the Lunk Alarm (and how the staff applied its concepts) somehow became a statement of discontent for anyone who so passionate about lifting that they could potentially be mistaken for a "meathead."

No greater evidence of this came than it did in my visit to the Poughkeepsie/Hyde Park location in New York. Upon doing a warm-up Deadlift set, I was instantly confronted by a staff member who banned me from performing that lift in the gym. It was not due to any specific noise or distraction I created (after all, this was a warm-up set, not a slam-and-bang max set) but simply because the staff had culturally been conditioned to oppose anything that resembles a "weightlifter" lift.

(For the record, the deadlift is arguably the most valuable lift and has a place in almost every strength training regimen. It is not a professional bodybuilder/powerlifter exclusive).

Most interesting about Planet Fitness’ conception is that from my seven years of competitive-level fitness experience at plenty of gyms in several different cities, I have never encountered a particular pattern regarding the type of demographic most likely to set off the lunk alarm. And if forced to pick one, I would argue the most common "grunters" and "weight droppers" tend to be elderly, high-shorts-donning, fairly-out-of-shape men (who were perhaps very athletic in their earlier years and want to convince people they can still lift hard). Not bodybuilders or power lifters.

You Lift Things Up, We Put You Down

While the Lunk Alarm might have stemmed from a misconception about bodybuilders, it was still not inherently exclusionary. As long such individuals were willing to forego one or two lifts and behave, they could still get plenty out of their $10 Planet Fitness membership. They still had a place in the "Judgment Free Zone."

Then came the controversial "I Lift Things Up and Put Them Down" advertisement.

The commercial features a Planet Fitness representative giving a tour of the facility to a scantily-clad, Arnold Schwarzenegger-esque bodybuilder. As the staffer tries to discuss the gym’s various amenities, the bodybuilder robotically repeats, "I lift things up and put them down." He eventually gets booted out of the building, and the commercial narrator informs viewers that Planet Fitness is "not his planet" but "yours."

In essence, a representative of the famous "Judgment Free Zone" is doing a great deal of judging. And he is the only one judging—even as the bodybuilder passes a man doing the most half-hearted exercise on a hamstring curl machine imaginable, he never mocks that individual.

Planet Fitness produced at least one similar follow-up ad, also predicated on the notion that bodybuilders are dumb, obnoxious meatheads who care about nothing beyond their physiques.

A newer campaign, built on Planet Fitness’ absence of "Gymtimidation," goes on the offensive against both male and female enthusiasts. The women are vain, arrogant airheads who endlessly talk about how hot they are while another, intimidated woman looks on from the corner of the lockerroom. The male creepily rubs a towel between his legs while an intimidated member looks on from his seat in the lockerroom. According to the commercial, while that behavior is commonplace in gyms, it does not exist at Planet Fitness, which is not a gym.

While the campaigns were irrefutably funny, it was offensively counter to notions of fitness, good marketing practice and the company’s own mission:

How did he get so big? – Given the product Planet Fitness sells, it is perplexing why it so notably attempts to vilify those who are committed to fitness. Even if we are to believe that every hardcore bodybuilder becomes a self-obsessed moron once reaching a point of physical excellence, they all (even those who took steroids) did rely on a rigid commitment to good exercise and nutrition to achieve their aesthetic and athletic goals. Gyms, especially those trying to motivate first-timers to work out, should applaud—not scold—that commitment.

  • Particularly troubling is the reduction of weight training to a pointless exercise in "lifting things up and putting them down." If Planet Fitness is inclined to ignore the benefits not only in actually lifting but in setting achievement goals for how much one can lift, it should similarly question why people bother doing sit-ups, running on a treadmill or doing anything physical that is not part of one’s profession. If "lifting things up and putting them down" is worthless, Planet Fitness is itself worthless.
  • Face it, this is a gym, and vanity matters. Not all exercise for the purpose of becoming a bikini model, but all do have goals related to better health, better fitness and a better appearance. If not, why bother working out? By selecting gorgeous women for its latest commercial, Planet Fitness is not only speaking to those who feel intimidated by "beautiful people" at their gyms but subliminally suggesting that those committed to improving their bodies are shallow and unlikable. Forget "judging," this also discourages potential customers from making the most of their gym membership.
  • What happened to the concept of motivation? The presence of physically-fit men and women will not only serve an inspirational purpose for those who need an extra incentive to get going but a helpful one; these individuals often have valuable information to share about exercise and nutrition (and I say share – not force upon).
  • As one YouTube commenter brilliantly writes, "So hypothetically, if you joined this gym and somehow managed to get fit on ellipticals and other funny? machines like that... they would escort you out and revoke your membership?"

We don’t want your money- Insofar as the cost of running a gym is reasonably-fixed, it makes sense to encourage as much membership as possible (especially at Planet Fitness’ low $10 price point). Why, then, would the marketing message aim to deliberately exclude a certain demographic (especially when that demographic is the most lucrative in the fitness category)?

  • While the "Lunk Alarm" rules themselves are occasionally mocked by fitness enthusiasts, most neither fundamentally oppose them nor feel incapable of following them. Planet Fitness, therefore, can (and previously has) maintain its low-key, inviting environment without viciously excluding certain people.
    • This also rules out the counterargument that "embracing bodybuilders would prevent non-bodybuilders from joining." As articulated earlier, there is a clear value proposition to Planet Fitness that exists independently of the brand’s decision to exclude people.
  • Because the price is so attractive, it is conceivable that bodybuilder types will join the gym anyway. But the bodybuilding community does possess a widespread contempt for Planet Fitness as a result of its marketing, and that contempt surely discourages some potential members.
    • Planet Fitness’ business would be more successful if it focused on the core of its offering—an inexpensive, accessible, straightforward gym for individuals of all experience levels.
      • Just like the earlier reference to a bar that serves $1 beer, the core of the offering--rather than the specialty ("judgment free zone" in this case) is most likely the real hook anyway. So why not play that up?

We judge, so you don’t have to - This is a franchise that advertises its willingness to show enthusiastic customers to the door. It sounds an alarm to embarrass those who do not adhere to its standard for fitness etiquette. Yet it still has the audacity to refer to itself as "judgment free?"

  • Brand identity is not an exercise in randomness. How one chooses to present his brand matters, and one’s inability or disinterest in adhering to that identity is a surefire ticket to harm. If Planet Fitness wants to judge people—just not the people who might typically be more worried about judging—it should not so aggressively call itself a "judgment free zone."
  • Planet Fitness creates an unneeded culture of hostility. Moral obligation rarely has a place in a discussion about branding, but the door is open because Planet Fitness prevents itself as such a hero for the underdog.
  • Planet Fitness’ "judgment free" messaging inherently assumes that those without great physiques—or at least those without significant gym experience—are most susceptible to "judging" and most emotionally affected by it.
    • That is not only another flavor of judgment in and of itself, but it is also another means of vilifying fitness enthusiasts. According to this brand, if you are an "average Joe," you do not want to be in a gym with bodybuilders, because they will judge you. Is that a helpful message to convey?

Whenever fitness enthusiasts call Planet Fitness out on its hypocritical and illogical strategies, the response usually involves the reminder that, "of course you don’t get it – it’s not for you."

The problem is that Planet Fitness is both a gym (and thus is inherently for people who care about getting more athletic, getting stronger, looking better and/or feeling better) and one that so aggressively commits itself to being for everyone. And if Planet Fitness would only make good on those two notions, it would not only avoid animosity but actually improve the business.


RECOMMENDED