BRANDING OVER THE CRACKS

 

JAMES HEARTFIELD

 

 

INTRODUCTION[st1] 

 

‘One cannot step twice into the same river, for the water into which you first stepped has flowed on’. Heraclitus, fragment 21

 

Market economies proclaim the advantage of flexibility over command economies, but in exchange for that advantage, they must surrender their claim upon the security of certain outcomes. Marketing gurus like Charles Handy and Tom Peters upbraid their audiences with homilies drawn from the philosopher of flux, Heraclitus: ‘Nothing certain, but change’ and ‘expect the unexpected’.

 

The social division of labour, though, has definite proportions at any one moment. In London, 145 000 people working in computer and business services stand waiting to serve the 460 000 strong financial service sector centred on the City of London.[1] But while investment and production goes ahead on the assumption that the goods and services will be paid for, that outcome is not in any way guaranteed – a fact underlined by the recent disturbances in the financial markets. The point of sale is episodic. The subdivision of tasks amongst different sections assumes a successful outcome that only comes at the end of the process, if at all.

 

Like Heraclitus’ river, the torrent of fruit-flavoured, sugared water flows on. Each purchase is discrete, and never literally repeated. But the brand Coca Cola defies the episodic character of the sale, to endure beyond each purchase, connecting them as if in one continuous chain. The Brand[st2]  is the attempt to fix the flux of the market society with the appearance of permanence. Once branded, it seems that you can step into the same river twice. (The recent collapse in Coca-Cola’s sales in Belgium, the consequence of a health panic illustrates the real contingency behind the durability of the Coke Brand.) Brands are for ‘turning fickle customers into your company’s love slaves’, as Chuck Pettis (1995) puts it – except that slavery has been abolished and love is fickle[st3] .[2] Seattle Design Firm, the Leonhardt Group, meanwhile hope that ‘brands are the emotional shortcut between a company and its customers’.[3] Making the wish the father to the thought, Virgin’s Richard Branson says branding creates a ‘mutually acknowledged relationship between supplier and buyer that transcends isolated transactions’.[4] But it is not possible to transcend the isolated transactions that make up the market economy, without transcending the market economy itself: the brand merely supplies the illusion of overcoming the episodic character of market exchange.

 

This article looks at the contemporary vogue for branding in business theory as symptomatic, less of success than of failure, of the attempts by businesses to avoid market failure. It sees the quest for brand added-value as an attempt to avoid diminishing returns, and looks at the ways in which branding raises the threshold to market entry at the cost of rivals. It also investigates the connection between re-branding, and attempts to overcome the barriers to accumulation at the international level by disciplining labour. The preoccupation with the value of brands – as opposed to the development of new production – is a telling insight into contemporary capitalist self-perception.

 

BRAND FETISHISM

 

Thomas Gad, who ‘connected people’ for Nokia, deploys the metaphor of genetic inheritance to ward off the fear of contingency: ‘The brand code equals business DNA’.[5] The appeal to an organic metaphor is telling. The purchasers of Gad’s book 4D Branding are worried about how to replicate the initial sales. Genetic replication stands for the spontaneous replication of market success. Natural inheritance is a common metaphor for property relations, one that invests them with the comforting fixity [st4] that they lack in fact. Many years ago, the conservative Edmund Burke asserted hopefully ‘The laws of commerce are the laws of Nature, and therefore the laws of God.’ [6] DNA is a more secular image, but it still holds out the promise of the natural reproduction of market relations, and the replication of the original sale.

 

Branding transforms[st5]  the episodic processes of sale and purchase into a singular object. Branding turns a social relation into a thing that can be taken hold of, and even bought and sold on the market itself.[7] The ubiquitous B[st6] rands seem to us to be the epitomé of market relations. But the appeal of the brand for the individual businessman is that it promises to suspend the uncertainty inherent in the exchange process. Branding is an attempt to overcome the spontaneous and unplanned character of market exchange – albeit one that remains firmly within the confines of private property.

 

The advertisers--or now brand consultants--are parasitic upon the anxiety of businesses, promising to sell them the one thing that they cannot produce …sales. Similarly, broadcasters and publishers ‘sell’ audiences,[8] and polling organizations sell ratings to advertisers.[9]

 

Branding is, in its essence, a defensive denial of the contingency of market relations, on the part of companies whose precarious existence is a torment to them, which must be warded off by the Juju of the brand.[10] Peter York at SRU Ltd hopes that ‘a brand should ensure a long-term and forgiving relationship with its audiences’.[11]  On the other hand, David Bernstein warns that ‘a logo is not a magic totem or a philosopher’s stone’, but such caveats belong to a bygone age[st7] .[12]

 

‘The word “branding” is like a magical incantation’, says Thomas Gad.[13] Belief in the magical properties of the brand is today commonplace. In the first place, brands are mysterious. ‘What are brands made of?’ asks Arthur Einstein, the New York-based advertising consultant. ‘They’re existential’[st8] . Pettis points out that Einstein does not mean that brands are a response to the existential angst of salesmen. He means that “while a product can be touched and felt the brand itself is not a tangible thing. It is an abstraction”.[14] [st9] Chuck Pettis of the American Management Association is similarly vague when posing the question ‘What is a brand?’. The answer is: “The sensory, emotive and cultural proprietary image surrounding a company or product… a significant source of competitive advantage … an enhancement of perceived value and satisfaction” and “arguably the company’s most important asset”.[15] That should cover all bases, and nobody could accuse [st10] brand consultants of pedantic or mundane thinking – on the contrary, the imagination takes flight in discussions of branding.

 

Russell L Hamlin, CEO of the Sunkist Growers is also impressed by the intangible:  “an orange … is an orange … is an orange. Unless of course that orange happens to be a Sunkist, a name eighty per cent of consumers knows and trust.”[16] The relation of trust between the producers and consumers here has been re-directed on to the object itself. ‘Trust’ is an intention accorded to other people, ordinarily, but here it is the Sunkist that deserves trust. ‘Men’, observed the philosopher Ludwig Feuerbach, “transpose their own being into things”.[17]

 

French explorer Charles de Brosses first characterized the objects worshipped by native peoples as ‘fetishes’.[18] These man-made objects were worshipped as if they were rather the creators of men. So, too are Brands made into fetishes that, though made by us, come to rule over us. According to United Biscuits’ Sir Hector Laing: “Buildings age and become dilapidated. Machines wear out. People die. But what live on are brands.”[19] Brands promise everlasting life to Sir Hector, but to others the brand exemplifies everything that is wrong with our society.

 

Selling indulgences: For the Pope’s visit to Denver in August 1993, the church authorized the first merchandising campaign for ‘Pope products,’ including everything from the standard T-shirts to the Pope-Scope’.[20]

Brand and anti-brand

 

In 1989 the Vancouver-based Media Foundation started the magazine Adbusters, whose editor Kalle Lasn perfected the art of subverting the corporate message, or ‘culture-jamming’. Culture-jamming caught the moment: the ubiquity of the big brands, the Nike ‘swooshtika[st11] ’ McDonald’s Golden Arches and Microsoft presented a seamless continuum of consumerism that was crying out to be ripped apart. After the anti-globalisation protests attained critical mass in Seattle 1999, brands were becoming targets of hostility as well as desire.[21] Anti-brand activists turn Nike into Dike, and McDonalds into McMurder. Canadian radical Naomi Klein’s spectacular assault on branding, No Logo, [22] was paid the back-handed compliment of being listed as the best-selling business book.

 

No Logo’s international success indicated all the strengths of the newly emerging culture-jamming activism, but also perhaps some of its weaknesses as well. Unwittingly, the anti-brand activist is paying homage to the same God, albeit negatively.[23] Both the brand enthusiast and the anti-brand activist share the same belief in the superhuman power of brands. As Mark Ritson, professor of Marketing at the London Business School argues Countercultures “speak the words of opposition in a language in which we are all fluent: the language of brands.”[24] In No Logo, the quality of the journalism and the verve of the argument are not in doubt, but as an analyst of the power of brands Klein is in danger of reproducing the underlying prejudices of brand theory.

 

According to Klein: ‘“Advertising is about hawking a product. Branding, in its truest and most advanced incarnations, is about corporate transcendence.”[25] If Klein were describing the capitalists’ tendency to attempt to transcend the business of social production, it would be convincing, but she goes further in seeing a literal transcendence of production:

 

‘even the classic Marxist division between workers and owners doesn’t quite work in the [Special Economic] zone, since the brand-name multinationals have divested the ‘means of production,’ to use Marx’s phrase, unwilling to encumber themselves with the responsibilities of actually owning and managing the factories, and employing a labour force.’[26]

 

Further, Klein emphasises ‘this is not a job-flight story. It is a flight-from-jobs story.’[27]

 

But it is difficult to square that claim with the long climb in the numbers in work. Between 1950 and 1995 the world workforce increased from 1183m to 2742m.[28] Influenced by the New International Division of Labour theory[29] and the anti-NAFTA campaign, Klein emphasises the migration of jobs to the Far East.[30] But while it is true that there is job-relocation, the workforces of the developed world have continued to expand quite remarkably. Between 1986 and 2001 the 15 countries that would become the EU expanded their workforces by 20 per cent, from 134,185,000 to 161,507,000; over the same period the civilian workforce in the US expanded 13 per cent, from 180,587,000 to 209,699,000. Nor is it the case, as Klein argues, that the western world has dispensed with industrial production, employing only clerks ‘to sell the brand name goods at the point of purchase’.[31] Despite the considerable growth of the East Asian industrial workforce, most new value in manufacturing is still created in the West.

 

 

 

Furthermore it is a mistake to take the statistical growth of service sector employment in the West as evidence of a ‘post-material’ economy. Much of the change is nominal, as activities undertaken in-house by industrial firms, such as cleaning or servicing machines, are reclassified from productive jobs to service jobs if they are out-sourced.[32] It would be a mistake to reduce productive labour to a physiological category directly related to material transformation.[33]

The prejudice that the realm of production has been transcended, or relocated elsewhere serves to justify the restriction of the politics of protest and contestation to the realm of exchange. In this way the culture-jammers only hold up a mirror to brand theory, rejecting its conclusions while sharing its underlying belief in the priority of consumption over production. The tendency is for culture-jamming to reduce to an arch commentary on consumer goods, part of the language of taste by which the educated mark themselves off as more discerning consumers than the hoi polloi. It is hard to tell whether the Biotic Baking Brigade’s Subcomandante Tofutti and his Global Pastry Uprising is parodying capitalism or parodying opposition to capitalism.[34]

 

Not only does culture-jamming tend to end up paying homage to brands as much as it critiques them, it also grants undue authority to the power of the brand. Where Klein’s account portrays the brand as the culmination of the power of the market, the contemporary explosion of branding is not evidence of health, but decline. Hypnotised by the power of brands, the anti-brand activists fail to recognise that these are indications of capitalism’s running up against its inner limits. In particular, branding indicates the attempt – ultimately futile – on the part of businesses, to suspend the judgement of the market. As Marx indicates, once capital “begins to sense itself and become conscious of itself as a barrier to development, its seeks refuge in forms, which by restricting free competition seem to make the rule of capital more perfect, but are at the same time heralds of its dissolution…”[35] It might seem strange that branding could be seen as a restriction of free competition, but as we shall see, that is precisely the motivation: locking consumers in and competitors out. The ubiquity of the brand demonstrates not ‘the astronomical growth in the wealth and cultural influence of multinational corporations’,[36] but a desperate attempt to avoid capital’s own inner limitations.

 

AHISTORICAL BRANDS

 

As fetish objects b[st12] rands appear to have no history. So according to one b[st13] rand theorist “Branding goes back to the beginning of history … from Ancient Egyptian bricks to trade guilds in Medieval Europe” craftsmen have always marked their wares.[37] Actually, branding came into its own around the 1890s, just as merger-mania was transforming the family firm into the modern corporation.[38]

 

Leading brands of the 1890s:

American Express Travellers’ Cheques; Avon Cosmetics; Cadbury’s Chocolate; Coca-Cola; Colgate; FT; Gillette; Heineken; Ivory Soap; Kodak; Lipton Tea; McVities Biscuits; Pears Soap; Phillips Electronics; Quakers’ Oats; Steinway Pianos; Van Houton’s Cocoa; Wedgwood Pottery.[39]

 

The next wave of branding activity was 1926 – again as straitened circumstances forced the pace of mergers, creating corporations like the BBC, M&S, and ICI. The post-war boom fostered the growth of the consumer market, but it was the downturn of the 1970s that facilitated the creation of [st14] Microsoft, Virgin, and the Body Shop. In the 1980s the British government flooded the market with newly privatized companies: BT, British Gas and BA. Today the big brands of the eighties marketing boom are mostly in trouble: British Telecom’s funds were depleted by speculative investment in East Asian markets, leading to pressure on Chairman Iain Vallance, the Thatcherite Golden Boy; Marks and Spencers’ consistent losses during the past decade [st15] and reputation for the drab have led to a retreat from the global market, as indicated by the closing down of their French operation. The privatized rail companies, like Virgin and Connex, have become a by-word for disaster.

‘Brands’ – stylistic marks that subsume discrete commodities under one brand name, associated with a company – are integral to mass production. They substitute for the personal relations of trust associated with craft production. But branding theory is a contemporary phenomenon, as are its correlate goods [st16] whose value appears to inhere principally from the brand, rather than the material qualities of the good. The valuation of brands on company balance sheets is a relatively recent occurrence[st17] , signalling Capital’s inner tendency to attempt to overreach simple market exchange. If brands are rediscovered throughout history, we can lose sight of what is new in the attempt by business to avoid the capricious nature of exchange.

 

Brand Chronology

 

1893 Sears and Roebuck Co founded in Chicago, Coca-Cola registered as a trademark

June 17, 1903, Ford Motor Company incorporation papers filed, Michigan

1926

Marks & Spencer Limited becomes a public company.

December 7, Imperial Chemical Industries founded in a merger

December 31 The British Broadcasting Corporation

1945, ‘Coke’ registered as a trademark

January 10, 1956, Elvis Presley records ‘Heartbreak Hotel,’

‘Let's be frank about it; most of our people have never had it so good,’ Prime Minister Harold Macmillan told Britons, 20 July 1957

1965 McDonald's went public

November 1965  England swings like a pendulum do,’ sang Roger Miller. After a balance of payments crisis and deflation, the Daily Mail launches the ‘I’m backing Britain’ campaign in 1968.

March 1976 Anita Roddick founds the Body Shop in Brighton – 25 years later 1700 Body Shops serve 49 markets across the world

November 1984 two million people buy shares in the newly floated British Telecom (£4 billion), followed by British Gas in December 1986 (£5.4 billion) and British Airways in February 1987 (£900 million).

9 August 1995 Netscape Communications Inc., floated on the stock exchange. Microsoft incorporated its own Internet Explorer into Windows 95, which is launched the same month.

 

 

DEFENSIVE BRANDING

 

While branding consultants talk up the creative aspect of branding, it is rarely noticed that branding strategies are often a defensive reaction to market conditions. In the 1970s Levi Strauss ‘made the mistake of expanding beyond the core product lines’, reports Robert Holloway, VP Global Marketing, an ‘expansion’ which ‘diluted the Levis brand and its appeal to customers’.[40] Levis re-branding in the 1980s was a reaction to the perceived decline of the product.

 

Nick Hodges, Chief Executive of the London International Group, owners of the Durex brand (‘Durability, Reliability, Excellence’, registered in 1929), explains that the declining sales of condoms in the seventies tempted the company into chinaware and photo processing – ‘diversification was an eighties vogue’ – but profits were stretched and debts mounted up to 1993.[41] But for the health crisis of Aids, the Durex brand would in all probability have disappeared, rather than becoming what it is today, a world-beating brand.

 

British Airways’ chief executive Bob Ayling explains that the effect of the company’s first re-launch, post-privatisation, was beginning to pall (‘our research confirmed that we needed to change again’[42]). The issue of branding arises where, in Ayling’s words, there is ‘the need to re-launch’. In each instance the response of these companies was to dire straits was to ‘re-brand’. Branding strategy is a counter-crisis measure for companies that perceive their markets to be slipping away from them.

 

Iain Ellwood makes a case for ‘the added value of advertising’ that is positively downbeat. It can “revitalize a brand that may be losing market share; protect a brand against a competitors advertising effort; … reinforce a brand’s appeal in the market.”[43] The unavoidable conclusion is that rebranding [st18] is a defensive strategy, designed to shore up a product that is proving to be uncompetitive. The question remains whether the real point of intervention ought to be the brand image or the product itself.

 

ANTI-COMPETITIVE BRANDING

 

In keeping with the defensive character of branding, it is pointed that the brand consultants seek to play upon the anxieties of companies about the competition. David A Aaker warns that “as industries turn increasingly hostile, it is clear that strong brand-building skills are needed to survive and prosper.”[44] Intriguingly, the appeal of a branding strategy is that it will give the additional push that gets your product ahead. Patrick McGovern, chairman of the board of the International Data Group says that ‘Branding has become much more important recently because of the proliferation of choice that’s available to customers’.[45] The unspoken assumption is that apart from the brand, there is not much to choose between the different products.

 

In Britain for example, marketing and advertising have come to play an ever-greater importance in the economy, just as innovation has declined. The Department of Culture, Media and Sport reports that the ‘UK is the fourth largest advertising market in the world’[46] (way above its ranking in GDP or growth). By contrast, the Department of Trade and Industry, only recognising a problem at the level of investors’ subjective choices, believes that the ‘UK remains relatively risk averse’: ‘The UK’s more risk-averse approach generally contributes to lower levels of entrepreneurial activity and affects the early adoption of new technology and new products and processes based on such technologies.’[47] With its historically low rate of investment, the British economy presents an aggravated form of the contemporary preoccupation with exchange over production. The problem is that the concentration on marketing is largely a displacement activity for innovation.[48]

 

Neo-classical economic theory teaches that the market rewards labour-saving and innovative products. Competition differentiates between products on two scales, cost and quality. This was an economic theory that corresponded to a period of innovation in which products were actually differentiated. The role of competition is simply to realize the already existing advantages of the superior commodity. But with branding theory the priority is reversed. The superiority of the product is subordinate to the reception and durability of the brand. Branding theory corresponds to a moment in which the rate of innovation is relatively low, and the differentiation of products, therefore, must take place through marketing and advertising.

 

The original ad-buster Vance Packard first noticed the way that advertising increased in importance in inverse proportion to product differentiation, when he listened in on ‘an annual conference of advertising agency men’ who ‘heard an appeal for more ‘gifted artists’ in persuasion to cope with this problem of the “rapidly diminishing product differences”’.[49] Packard highlighted the challenge made by Chicago Tribune research director Pierre Martineau to advertisers: ‘What is the advertising direction going to be when the differences [between rival products] become trivial or non-existent’. The answer, according to one agency president David Ogilvy, was that ‘the greater the similarity between products, the less part reason really plays in brand selection.’

 

A RESPONSE TO FALLING PROFIT MARGINS

 

According to Brian Sharples, president of Intelliquest, ‘developing a price advantage is the single biggest lever that a company can employ to boost margins and profits’.[50] The promise of branding is that it can sustain price advantage – even where the normal course of cost-reduction seems to lead inexorably to reductions in price. Branding theory bucks the trend described in neo-classical theory for the advantages of labour-saving technique to be passed on to the consumer.

 

Iain Ellwood explains that ‘some [companies] often price their products too low and the resulting effect is to devalue the brand … trying to reduce the prices too much, leading to an unnecessary cut in profit margins’.[51] Unfortunately, falling prices is a normal effect of competitive reduction of costs. Michael Cox and Richard Alm illustrate the trend.[52] They show how long one must work in each decade since the 1920s to purchase some typical commodities.  (* latest in 1999)

 

Year

1920

30

40

50

60

70

80

99

Latest*

Half gallon of Milk

37mins

31

21

16

13

10

8.7

8

7

Three-pound chicken

2hrs

27mins

2:01

1:24

1:11

33

22

18

14

14

100 kilowatt hrs electricity

13hrs

36mins

 

11:03

5:52

2hrs

1:09

39mins

45

43

38

3min coast-to-coast call

30hrs 3mins

16:29

6:07

1:44

1hr

24mins

11

4

2

For consumers, the effect of competition has pushed down the cost of milk and chickens to a fraction of its cost to our grandparents. But to keep in the game farmers and retailers are chasing minute profit margins on a gallon of milk or a chicken. Avoiding these falling profit margins increasingly engages the creativity of the firm.

 

A brand solution to falling profit margins is illustrated by the clothing manufacturers, Levi Strauss. Levi’s Robert Holloway describes how the initial failure of diversification only reproduced the trend of falling prices over a wider – and less admired – range of  commodities[st19] . As he experienced it, the challenge that Levi faced was ‘putting Levi Strauss back into the Jeans market’.[53] But this is not quite the back-to-basics story that it appears. The ‘jeans market’ was no longer simply about selling stitched cotton. As Holloway notes, in 1996 Forbes announced that ‘Levi Jeans are not so much a product as an Icon’. Holloway describes how ‘the decision was taken to focus on image not volume. The high image flagship product of Levis brand – 501 Jeans – would lead the company’s return to profitability’ – a goal achieved by 1996.[54]

 

What in fact Levi Strauss did was to supplement the depleted value of the cotton trousers by realizing the price of the icon. They were no longer selling clothes, but kitsch, thanks to the unrewarded efforts of Marlon Brando, James Dean, John Travolta and Mickey Rourke amongst many who had invested the clothing with its new premium. The ‘brand-added value’ of nostalgia for the 1950s shows up on Cox and Alm’s chart as a reversal of the trend for commodities to fall in value relative to wages:

 

Year

1920

30

40

50

60

70

80

90

latest

Pair of Levis

10 hrs 36 mins

5:18

4:30

4:00

2:36

2:18

2:48

2:48

3:24

 

Iain Ellwood explains that with price cutting ‘the damage to the brand in the long term is difficult to repair, especially as shrinking profits reduce investment and quality’[55] Clearly this was a lesson that Levi learned the hard way in the 1970s. For Levi Strauss & Co. the value of the brand was something worth defending in the courts. The British supermarket chain Tesco’s bought 501s at cost, and, instead of charging the premium price of between £32-£49 gave some of that back to customers by selling them at £30, and then £25. According to reports, Levi Strauss ‘fears that its reputation will be damaged if its jeans are sold in supermarkets’.[56] On 5 April 2001, the European Court of Justice Advocate General Stix-Hackl ruled against the power of brands, that Tesco had a right ‘to freely sell products bought from around the world’. John Gildersleeve, Tesco's director, said: ‘This is a great day for consumers.’[57]

 

In the European Court of Justice case, Tesco’s were at pains to distinguish their strategy of buying up 501s in East Europe at cost to sell in West Europe at a reduced price, from the growing market in imitation designer-wear. But the market in fake labels is a response to the same market distortion that Tesco’s exploited – the difference between the intangible value added by branding, and the costs of production of the goods themselves. In prosecuting designer rip-offs, top label companies insist that they are protecting quality, but by their own admission, the quality no longer inheres in the material object, but in the associations of the label.

 

The dispute between Tesco’s and Levi’s over the mark-up on 501s has little to do with creating new value. Rather it is a dispute over the distribution of additional value already created. By exacting a premium price, are attracting more of the surplus value created elsewhere in the economy – like any monopoly. Western consumer goods markets, buoyed by the expansion in personal credit, set shop prices adrift from factory costs of production. By importing goods, Tesco’s took advantage of price differences that arose from the dampened spending power of East European consumers, but also, presumably, from the reduced costs of production there. Neither company’s strategy represents a substantial transformation of production relations for capital as a whole, only a struggle over dwindling profit margin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Limits of the ‘Brand –Added-Value’ theory

Between mid-1988 and the end of 1991, IT firm Compaq was falling out of its target customers’ consideration and boosted its advertising, but sales failed to respond.  Market Research firm Techtel were drafted in to explain the problem: ‘opinion of the brand was falling because of the price’, said Techtel’s president Michael Kelly. Compaq’s high-value products were losing out against newer and cheaper rivals. They fired the president, the advertising agency and laid off 1400 employees. To reposition the brand as more competitive Compaq had to spend another $16M in advertising to demonstrate that they had recognized the problem and dealt with it. They had ‘broadened from a technology-driven image to a customer-driven’ one, according to Kelly. (Pettis, Technobrands, p98) The theory of ‘brand added-value’ did not prevent Compaq from having to restore profitability by the more traditional means of cheapening the goods by reducing labour costs to get a wider share of the market – but the branding specialists demanded their slice anyway. Instead of adding something new, Techtel only put a gloss on the ordinary dynamics of class struggle.

 

LO-TECH LOGO

 

Brand strategies generally emphasise novelty and innovation. Branding plunders the image-bank of the new technologies, from laboratoire Garnier to ‘liquid engineering’ and the ‘appliance of science’. The dominant brand strategy is ‘brand-new!’ – the promise of cutting edge technologies (carefully moderated with new age values, of course). But all too often branding and technological innovation are pulling in opposite directions. Amongst themselves the brand strategists take a dim view of technology. Patrick J McGovern of the International Data Group patronises the pointy-headed techno-geeks: ‘Technologists tend to think technology alone will sell their products – that superior technology is the only thing that differentiates them from their competitors’.[58] How very silly of them, to think that building a better mousetrap was the path to success.

 

According to Chris Pettis:

 

‘High technology customers face a Hegelian dialectic in that their high-tech marketing and product managers, who understand well the technicalities of their products, are not equipped with the overall brand expertise and experience that their companies need but find it hard to define.’[59]

 

What Pettis is describing is not an Hegelian but a Marxist dialectic in which the dynamic forces of production, represented here by the technologists, are constrained by the conservative relations of capital accumulation. The philistine marketing men personify the priority of circulation over production, which are increasingly at odds.[60]

 

In fact, as technological innovation slows down, the importance of branding increases. Brian Sharples, President of Intelliquest, Inc., says “technology executives in mature markets have fully embraced the concept of branding, although companies in new and emerging markets tend to focus more on technology-based competition”[61] – get with the programme, guys! Innovation is so yesterday. Chuck Pettis explains cryptically, that ‘as markets mature, creative technology solutions give way to standards as the market begins to define and demand a compatible and standardized approach’[62] But what can Pettis mean by these ‘standards’ which creative technology solutions must give way to. On closer inspection Pettis simply means the image of high standards, as a promise that substitutes for the state of the art (now a hopelessly passé formula).

 

The Director of Corporate Communications for Hewlett-Packard Co guiltily admits that   ‘we have not as a company, historically, been conscious of the importance of managing the overall HP brand.’[63] But then when Hewlett-Packard looked after the printers, the reputation of the brand looked after itself. New technology companies that survived on innovation in the eighties became increasingly image-conscious in the nineties. The terms ‘new technology’, ‘IT’, and ‘dot.com’ no longer referred to specific technologies, but themselves became a brand, and one directed primarily at investors at that. By the bursting of the Internet bubble, an echo resounded in the hollow space where the new technology should be. Most so-called Internet firms proved to be either marketing ventures or potty enthusiasms. Branding got the better of the Nasdaq, and investors were duped.

 

Anti-competitive branding is an attempt to secure the continuation of profit margins at the level of relations between companies. At its most extreme it represents the divergence between capital’s existence as a source of new value, and as technological progress. In the IT bubble, speculation substituted real investment; investment in brands diverted resources from investment in new means of production.

 

At another level, branding is associated with more than redistributed [st20] profits between companies. The role of the brand in the reorganisation of global markets and labour discipline indicates attempts to restructure production in capital’s favour.

 

 

Intel Inside

 

In May 1991 a court ruled that ‘386’, the trademark previously exclusive property of Intel was from then on common nomenclature for a microprocessor of those specifications. ‘Out of this “crisis”’ writes Chuck Pettis, came the decision to trademark the Intel Inside logo’ (Technobrands, p70). The Intel Inside campaign was launched at a cost of $250M in the second half of 1991 and 1992, ‘the most expensive ad campaign ever launched by a semi-conductor company’ (Ibid.). Intel’s original appeal was due to its having cornered the market for microprocessors at the top of the range. With more competitors muscling in, the company tried to hang onto the term ‘386’, through legal means. But as William James said, the word ‘Dog’ does not bite, and Intel failed to lay claim to a number. Instead they diverted vast resources into a branding exercise that targeted not just their Original Equipment Manufacturer customers, but also end-users.

 

 

GLOBALISATION: AVOIDING PROBLEMS AT HOME

 

Globalisation was the buzzword for the nineties, and a core theme of branding strategies. Just as George Bush Senior was promising a New World Order, McDonalds was opening up in Moscow. The global reach of brands like Nike and Coke seems awesome, but on closer inspection is less so. The globalisation strategies that companies adopted were largely a response to problems these same companies were having in their home markets--like Marks and Spencer’s move to Paris.

 

According to David Bernstein, “deliberately setting out to become international by assuming an international origin is wrong-headed … Brands are born somewhere. Companies are born somewhere.”[64] For all the talk of globalisation, brands remain stubbornly national in their character. ‘International brands are creations of their homelands. MacDonalds, Coke, Levi’s … are as American as apple pie’, says Bernstein.[65] In brands, we can see both capitalism’s inner striving to conquer a world market, but also its inability to let go of national particularity.

 

It was the challenge of falling returns and saturated home markets that persuaded many large companies to resolve their problems on the world market. Nick Hodges at Durex explains that ‘during 1993 we put together a plan to globalise the Durex brand, cutting costs by closing smaller factories, moving production to the East and automating production in the West.’[66] For Durex, then, globalisation was more of a desperate counter-crisis strategy than a positive expansion.

 

Globalisation put new emphasis upon the brand, as competition in foreign markets heightened the challenge of product definition. Bob Ayling expresses the ambiguity of British Airways’ new identity, which is ‘aimed at presenting British Airways as an airline of the world, born and based in Britain’.[67] L’Oréal first sought markets outside of France in the 1960s – the point when De Gaulle bankrupted the country – leading Alain Everard, Zone director, for Africa-Asia-Pacific to argue that ‘a key element to our success is the internationalization of our brands’.[68] Today eighty per cent of L’Oréal’s sales are abroad. Levi Strauss and MacDonalds also found an international solution to their further growth. Levi opened its first Original store in Poland in the mid-Eighties, when wearing Jeans was a blow for independence on the part of East European youth. The Moscow MacDonalds opened in 1990 was as important for image as it was for immediate sales – it ‘made the brand seem truly global’, said Senior Vice President John Hawkes.[69]

 

At L’Oréal, Alain Everard explains that the company read the emerging Asian markets as a new outlet: ‘The markets of developing countries tend to follow a certain pattern. First a thin layer of buyers of luxury goods such as Lancôme’… then ‘as income starts to move