Transcendental brands

Sports and religion have a lot of things in common — and tips that brands could pick up. And, no, one of them is not that Karl Marx described them both as the opiate of the masses. As much as business often uses metaphors of war to play out (strategy, tactic, enemy, threats, defence, offence, etc.), brands have shamelessly borrowed language from sports and religion, with nowhere near the success the latter enjoy.

I’m talking about terms such as devotees and the devout, followers and believers, fanatics and adherents, worshippers and high priests, the keepers of the faith and the shepherded herd, among others.

At the heart of the willing adoption and acquiescence of such labels by the legions of sports and religious communities is what I would call transcendental experiences. To nonbelievers, these are at best irrational experiences, and at worst, they are fabricated rationalised experiences.

To the believers, it is the difference between the sacred and the profane. It explains the undying optimism of the Indian cricket fan, for example.

Even in the face of relentless battering forces ranging from the corruption-ridden administration to the craven nature of defeats to lower-ranked rivals like Bangladesh, from “sell-out” endorsement deals by players to what must rank amongst the worst spectator experiences and facilities anywhere in the world.

It explains the unflinching ways in which, despite severe weather, unscrupulous hooligans, shoestring budgets, dubious food and drink, undesirable co-travellers, and the end opportunity of a mere fleeting glimpse, millions of people annually throng any of India’s or the world’s great pilgrimage centres—from Mecca to Badrinath to Tirupati to the Vatican.

The American consumer researchers Russell W. Belk, Melanie Wallendorf and John F. Sherry, Jr., have waxed eloquently about the blurring of lines between the sacred and the profane in the context of consumption, more than two decades ago.

And yet, despite everything we know of sports and religion, despite the lines that have been drawn by consumer experts to make the connections, brands don’t go about attempting to create transcendental experiences for their consumers. And before you argue that there is a world of difference between brands and sports or religion, you only have to look around to see that, in fact, consumers are already adopting brands in ways that facilitate transcendental experiences for them, despite brands’ best attempts to not facilitate them.

A Maggi noodles, for example, has become such an integral part of people’s lives that there is no more welcome sight, smell or taste for most Indians, especially when it is at the end of an arduous trek or a tiring day. Five years ago, I was initiated into the world of long-distance running thanks to a simple, structured, free training program from Reebok. Since then, I have tried running in Nikes and Adidas. But I’m willing to swear that nothing fits my feet better than Reebok. As I’m sure others are about why New Balance is the only salvation for their soles. HOGs, or Harley Owners’ Groups, are not merely saddle-sore weekend warriors and inhibition-free rebels without a cause.

In the smaller towns and cities of India, brands become home furnishing staples when they adorn people’s walls with calendars featuring colorful and gaudily-created gods and goddesses. Larger brands shy away from such open association with religion, for some reason. One brazen brand that has got national, even international recognition (it won a Cannes award) with a wanton religious connotation is Cycle Agarbatti.

But, as you can see, examples of brands deliberately creating transcendental experiences are far and few between. Wouldn’t you like to change that?

The author is National Planning Head, Dentsu Marcom