The end result is a forgone conclusion. Tom has spent many an hour amongst the cliffs and crags. Tom is an avid rock climber and has completed the most difficult track at his local YMCA. He knows the gear. He knows the process. He knows the exhilaration. Tom's concepts speak directly to the experienced rock climber. Someone who knows what it feels like to scale an impregnable wall of solid strata and watch the sweat from their brow plummet hundreds of feet to its rocky death below. To finally emerge from the clifface with  tendons tearing and muscles completely spent. This is rock climbing. This is conquest. Nike.

Then there is Earl.

Earl breaks a sweat climbing the stairs to his bedroom. Earl shops at the big and tall but he is not tall. Earl does not have a gym membership. Earl views rock climbing the same way he views all other physical feats of daring, as yet another example of man's capabilities to overcome any obstacle (if and when he can get his ass off the couch). In his mind scaling a mountain is an act of super human achievement and should be treated as such. He gives no thought to dripping sweat, torn ligaments, or calloused finger tips. Superheros don't sweat, don't tear, and don't, of course, callous. Earl's take has nothing to do with rock climbing in a personal or descriptive sense and everything to do with being a superhero. Don't climb rocks, scale them in a single bound. Nike.

Nike reviews the concepts, deliberates for a half an hour, and showers the agency with endless praise. Hands are shaken, contracts are signed, everyone leaves with a smile. I think you know whose concept was chosen for the same reason you know that most superhero artists aren't body builders. Don't sell the product sell the dream.