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11/03/2006: "Brand Name Loyalty"

Some friends of mine told me about a conversation they had with their niece the other day. The little girl had been complaining about her chapped lips, so they got her some lip balm, and the child threw a tantrum. “It’s not Chapstick!” was the upshot of her complaint.

The story hit a chord with me, for I have heard on more than one occasion the comment from a passerby, or a browser, “This isn’t Borders.” Such people are Brand-Name shoppers—and it seems that such people are growing in numbers. If the familiar name is not on the item, or the shop, it’s considered ersatz.

This is worrisome, to me. For what it means is that in the eyes of these young consumers, anything that doesn’t fit into a commercial identity is suspect! Oranges not bearing the “Sunkist” label are suspect; laudry detergent not identified by a snappy media-borne commercial will be passed over; department stores without a blazing eight-foot sign are unworthy of patronage.

Our young have become slaves to brand name loyalty! Is this a product of simple human favoritism, or a creation of advertising itself?

Have Madison Avenue admen finally created their own sentient product? Are we witnesses now to a generation of shoppers who respond only to specific name-oriented products and venues? If so, Hurrah for the power of advertising! Or, is this really a cause for celebration, least of all by the ones who have helped to make these people?

Consider the limitations that this mind-set imposes on people: not only are they limited by what they can do, but also on the choices and options they have. If the favored brands are unavailable, what are the chances that they will take a risk on a generic item? If not, how will they cope in a crisis situation? I can just imagine a person falling from a high cliff after screaming at a person on the ledge above for a rope. Upon investigating the accident, a park ranger sees a length of nylon cable and asks the witness why they didn’t use that. “It’s not Slipknot rope. I don’t trust it,” the person says. Great comfort to the grieving family, I’m sure.

In books, brand-name loyalty could be disastrous. While many authors struggle to get their first novel published, few if any are actually choosey about who put the book into print, and many are grateful for any publisher willing to take a chance on them. Even more importantly, the various publishing houses often specialize in particular genres of literature, so brand-name loyalty could well deny a reader a valuable experience.

Bantam Books, for instance, publishes a wide variety of fiction, from mystery to science fiction. But if brand-name loyalties were used, many are the mystery readers who would have never read the works of Janet Evanovich, published by Pocket Books; or Raymond Chandler, under the Vintage imprint.

Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes, originally published by an independent publisher, managed to garner enough attraction (and later, the Pulitzer Prize) to be worthy of Simon & Schuster; but brand-name loyalty would have precluded any interest in it. In a similar vein, American censors banned James Joyce’s Ulysses, before Random House publisher Bennett Cerf challenged the obscenity laws and won the right to publish it—before that, you had to buy English language editions in Paris and smuggle them back. Brand-name loyalty would have precluded this early American best-seller.

Then there’s the favoritism shown to the booksellers themselves. As the superstores and online giants continue to crush the smaller bookshops, a sort of de facto loyalty crops up. “I always buy my books through Amazon,” I overheard one woman say to a friend. Then there are the Barnes & Noble customers, and so on.

On reflection, I find that I have overlooked the largest venue of favoritism of all: genre selection! Many are the readers who only read a certain kind of book. From the Western lovers who never venture off the dusty trail, to those who never leave the Regency period of cotillions and garden balls, to the lovers of science fiction. Once settled into a comfortable niche, many readers never venture away from it.

Perhaps it is a matter of convenience—or simply a desire to continue with something that is familiar. Familiarity breeds comfort, after all, and comfort is a human desire. Regardless, for optimum literary experience, take a chance! Step outside the boundaries you may have set for yourself—the results can surprise you. I myself, a lover of nonfiction history, found myself aghast upon reading (for the first time) a romance novel by Judith Merkle Riley. I found to my intense surprise that she was very well-versed in medieval history; her book, Vision of Light, was quite enjoyable.

So, take the time to step away from a self-imposed path. The results may surprise you. Chance is the universe’s way of rolling the dice, and the odds are not always against you!

CLOSE THE BOOK ON:

William Styron, author of Lie Down in the Darkness, Confessions of Nat Turner, and Sophie’s Choice. Styron was considered by many to be the literary heir of William Faulkner.

Oriana Fallaci, Italian Journalist, and author of The Man, and, The Rage and the Pride. Fallaci was a frank, incisive writer whose candor won her both praise and criticism.