Q Marks Spot in the Hunt for What Sells

Voting took place this summer as part of a competition with a venerable history--one that could play a role in determining the market value of many of today’s stars.

The Emmys? Well, yes and no.

For while that description does indeed apply to the Emmys, it also refers to the Q Scores study--an aspect of the entertainment and marketing world no doubt stamped with a big X for unknown to the vast majority of the public, which is just the way entertainment executives and marketers like it.

Introduced in 1964, the Q Scores study is conducted by Marketing Evaluations Inc., a privately held little company in Manhasset, N.Y., that President Steve Levitt has headed for more than two decades. For all the influence the data carry, however, Marketing Evaluations has maintained a lower profile than the average CIA mole.

In essence, Q scores gauge how recognizable and well-liked a given performer is--a measurement avidly sought by advertisers, program distributors, networks and public relations firms. Conducted twice a year and spliced and diced along various demographic and ethnic lines, the TVQ portion of the survey polls a national panel of respondents age 6 and older as to whether they are familiar with personalities or television shows as well as how they feel about them--the choices being “one of my favorites,” “very good,” “good,” “fair,” “poor” or “never seen or heard of before.” Roughly 1,600 to 1,700 names are included in each survey.

The Q score is then calculated based on the ratio of how widely known someone is and how many of those familiar with that person or program identify him, her or it among their favorites. As a result, a personality who is recognizable but not much liked (think Donald Trump) might have a lower Q score than someone less widely known who elicits a more positive reaction.

As one example, Emmy nominee James Gandolfini, star of HBO’s “The Sopranos,” currently has a higher Q score than Martin Sheen, who plays President Bartlet on NBC’s “The West Wing.” Though Sheen is more widely recognized than Gandolfini, fewer of those who have heard of Sheen rank him among their favorite stars. So Gandolfini has a Q score of 36, versus 26 for Sheen, who does edge out his son, “Spin City’s” Charlie Sheen, who has a Q score of 21. (The average Q score for a male in a prime-time series is 19, meaning all three rate above average.)

This holds true even though Gandolfini’s recognition factor, at 29%, remains relatively low, though that percentage reflects a significant increase from 23% who knew of him in 2000.

By way of comparison, the top-rated movie star, Tom Hanks, had a Q score of 56 in the recent summer study, Levitt said, followed by usual suspects Mel Gibson, Harrison Ford, Sean Connery, Robin Williams, Bill Cosby and Julia Roberts, whose score rose significantly (from 39 to 45) since last year, topping all women on the general list.

Because of the study’s dual nature, Q scores can help identify up-and-coming talent capable of becoming bigger stars as their familiarity grows. If only a third of respondents know a celebrity but half of that number rate him among their favorites, “that signals very strong potential,” Levitt said.

So what does any of this mean? Quite a lot, given that marketers and movie studios use such data as a tool in deciding whom to feature in movies, TV shows and especially advertising campaigns. During an interview with The Times a few years ago, in fact, Rosie O’Donnell griped about producers relying on Q scores to dictate which guests she could book.

TVQ is also a factor in why certain performers--such as Robert Urich, who has been added to the cast of NBC’s “Emeril”--keep turning up despite past failures. “Why do you think some of these guys keep coming back in series after series after series?” Levitt said. In addition, the second survey, conducted in January and February, provides data that can be used to tinker with existing programs--expanding the roles of characters that appear to have broken out, say, while potentially diminishing others’.

Of course, having information and using it wisely can be separate issues. As a case in point, Levitt recalled John Houseman, who in his role as Professor Kingsfield on “The Paper Chase” possessed high Q scores and considerable credibility, making him a perfect fit for the Smith-Barney advertising campaign in which he intoned, “We make money the old-fashioned way. We earn it.”

All well and good, until “some genius at McDonald’s’ marketing department,” as Levitt put it, came up with the notion of using Houseman to hawk fast-food hamburgers.

Bad idea.

“Can you picture John Houseman at McDonald’s, instead of eating on a white tablecloth with a bottle of Baron Rothschild?” Levitt asked. “You are credible in one case but not in the other. The celebrity has to make sense in the context of the advertising.”

There are various reasons Q scores have largely been kept shrouded in mystery, the most obvious being that clients who pay for the research “don’t like to see data given away,” Levitt said.

A slightly more nebulous element is that networks and studios tend to fidget uncomfortably when the issue is broached, perhaps because it reduces the stars they for the most part pamper to raw commodities, numbers to be analyzed and pored over like stock tables.

Moreover, when Q scores are publicly bandied about, they can be suspiciously self-serving, such as when CBS announced in January that its new dramas “The District” and “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” had scores rivaling NBC’s “ER.” Loosely translated, that meant the few people who could identify the CBS shows at that time mostly liked them, whereas pretty much everyone has heard of “ER” whether they watch it or not.

Of course, in an ideal world, Q scores wouldn’t even be necessary. Executives would choose whom to hire based on merit or gut instinct, not research, and stars would be embraced as artists instead of being pitched and packaged like soap and soft drinks.

Yet for performers who might be appalled at the notion of having their marketability derived from poll results, Levitt’s response is to get over it. “The bottom line is you’ve got 100 actors vying for a part,” he said. “Before you get in the door, 99 have to lose ... [so the Q score is] a great whipping boy for a lot of crybabies.”

If all this sounds a trifle unsavory, accept it as another sign of a consumer-driven culture, where a high Q score can be every bit as valuable as a dusty Emmy or Golden Globe on the mantle, just another factor to consider when determining who will be fronting for Pepsi and American Express in the years ahead. As for those who would second-guess the fairness of this beauty-pageant mentality, Levitt conjures up a defense for TVQ as simple as A-B-C, one even the 53-year-old Emmys can fall back on when the inevitable second-guessing begins.

“It’s been around close to 40 years,” he said. “There’s got to be something to it.”

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Brian Lowry’s column appears Wednesdays. He can be reached at brian.lowry@latimes.com.