The Digital Whiskey Rebellion, Or How Maker’s Returned To The Mark (Part II)

(This is Part II. Click here to read The Digital Whiskey Rebellion Part I.)

At the conclusion of Part I, Marker’s Mark announced that they were lowering the proof of their bourbon to ease a product shortage. Chairman Emeritus Bill Samuels explained that he could not taste a difference and did not think others would, either.

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Bourbon drinkers are intensely brand loyal. And proud of it. Maker’s Mark fans saw the proof switch as a profound slap in the face. Watered down whiskey at full price. What a cheap trick! Worse, the company thought its customers were literally too tasteless to notice the difference! Twitter and the blogosphere blazed like that tax inspector’s home in 1791. People who didn’t even drink whiskey fanned the flames. This was just like that sneaky dimple in the bottom of the peanut butter jar. Or those swollen snack packages that hold fewer chips and more puffed air. Corporate contempt for customer loyalty at its worst!

The mainstream media went from touching on the story to jumping on it. Coverage ballooned as the rebellion spread. Many diehard Maker’s drinkers pledged to boycott their favorite beverage. Others swarmed into stores, intent on buying all they could before the lower proof product arrived. Angry e-mails flooded the company’s inboxes. Online comments grew more extreme. The social media fury itself became a mainstream story. Forbes declared that Maker’s had committed “brand suicide.”

Geo WashingtonSo, nearly 210 years after Pennsylvania farmers realized that fighting an overwhelming force would be a fatal error, Maker’s Mark called the whole thing off. Fresh from their weeklong digital tarring and feathering, Bill Samuels and his son, President and CEO Ron Samuels, announced that they had heard their customers loud and clear. They made a mistake, and they were sorry. Maker’s Mark would continue to be bottled at 90 proof. “You spoke. We listened,” Maker’s tweeted, including a link to a full apology on Facebook.

A great cheer echoed across the fields, umm, screens of the republic. “You spoke. We listened,” became a hashtag that became a public kiss-and-make-up fest. D’awww.

Maker’s Mark won praise for listening and learning. A “new Coke” or “new Netflix” fiasco had been headed off at the pass. Meanwhile, some of the same bourbon drinkers who scorned the sale of a lower proof product began searching for the few bottles that had supposedly reached the shelves, intent on snapping them up as treasured collector’s items. Go figure.

The Whiskey Rebellion of 2013 was over. But like the Whiskey Rebellion of old, this year’s model includes a slippery conspiratorial coda.

Alex Ham

Back in the day, some said that Alexander Hamilton’s tax was never intended to be a revenue raiser. His true agenda was to create aconfrontation in which the federal government showed the citizenry who was boss by force of arms. After all, few things were guaranteed to generate conflict like a whiskey tax. Especially an unfair one. Today, bars and blogs alike are full of rumors that Maker’s Mark never intended to lower the proof of its bourbon. The whole thing was an insanely brilliant shadow show staged to create fresh buzz around a fifty-something brand. No such thing as bad publicity, right?

I find this “the whole thing was a fake” theory harder to swallow than a mouthful of moonshine. Betting their brand on a dishonest publicity stunt is the complete opposite of the Samuels’ style. Like the rest of the liquor industry and the rest of us, they learned that changing a popular product in the digital age can cause your customers to pop their corks in a very different way than you expected.

(Notes: 1. Maker’s Mark is one of the relatively few American distilleries that uses the less common spelling “whisky” to identify their product. To avoid confusion, I chose to go with the more typical  “whiskey” throughout this piece. 2. The Maker’s Mark distillery in Loretto, Kentucky, is a little harder to get to than some of the others on the historic Bourbon Trail, but well worth the effort. 3. The Samuels family founded Maker’s Mark in the 1950s. Though the company has been sold several times and is currently owned by Beam, Inc., the Samuels continue to manage it. 4. In my humble opinion, longtime agency Doe-Anderson’s recent work for Maker’s is some of the best spirit advertising around. Their “It Is What It Isn’t™” tagline is terrific.)

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The Digital Whiskey Rebellion, Or How Maker’s Returned To The Mark

I was proofreading a piece on Richard III for the second time when the folks at Maker’s Mark® announced a little re-proofing of their own. Much to their surprise, they incited a Whiskey Rebellion worthy of 1791. If eighteenth-century Americans had preferred Twitter® and Facebook® to tar and feathers, that is.

Whiskey ProclamYou probably heard about the Whiskey Rebellion in high school. You may even confuse it with the Fake ID Citation or the Raid On Dad’s Beer Fridge. To clarify, the Whiskey Rebellion was the first true test of the power of the federal government. In an effort to pay off debts accumulated during the revolutionary war, newly minted Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton pushed a tax on whiskey producers through congress. An angry public pushed back, particularly in Pennsylvania.

Having won their freedom from arbitrary English taxes, our forefathers were far from eager to pony up. Transforming grain into whiskey was one of the few ways to store harvests in those days; trading in it was seen as a birthright. What’s more, many felt Hamilton’s tax unfairly favored large producers over small farmers operating their own stills.

Tar And FeathersAs often happens when large amounts of booze are involved, things got ugly fast. In 1791, “whiskey rebels” tarred and feathered a tax inspector and a process server. By 1794, shots were being exchanged, a rebel leader was killed, a tax inspector’s home was torched and armed mobs were threatening Pittsburgh.

Hamilton pushed for military intervention. President Washington chose negotiation. When talks failed, Hamilton got his way, and 13,000 troops marched into the Keystone State. The rebellion evaporated. Hamilton was elated. Jefferson was appalled. George Washington served two terms and returned to Mount Vernon, earning a living by–wait for it–distilling whiskey.

You probably heard about the Whiskey Rebellion of 2013 from the instantaneous, inescapable consumer outrage. It’s a textbook lesson in the power of social media. One that leaves no remaining doubts about customers’ ability to clobber companies that dare to mess with beloved brands.

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The seeds of rebellion were sown when Maker’s Mark announced that they were lowering the proof of their flagship bourbon from 90% to 84%. The stated reason was simple enough: they had underestimated demand. Bourbon sales were booming at home and abroad, and Maker’s Mark was struggling with a product shortage. Because bourbon is aged in barrels for years before bottling, increasing production couldn’t solve the immediate problem. The company had a choice. Let some customers go without, or add more water to the current stock, reducing the proof and stretching supplies. They chose the latter.

Of course, almost all whiskey is cut with water between the barrel and the bottle. This helps the distiller create a specific taste (flavor profile) and consistent alcohol content (proof). There are a few barrel proof bourbons available. But they are far too potent and pricey for most consumers.

Bill Samuels, Chairman Emeritus of Maker’s Mark, explained the lower proof in levelheaded terms. The company had been very careful to craft a new Maker’s Mark that hewed to the existing flavor profile. He could not detect any difference in taste, and he did not believe other drinkers would, either. Loyal customers would not go without. The retail price would remain the same.

All was well. Until all hell broke loose.

 

(This concludes Part I. Click here to read The Digital Whiskey Rebellion Part II.)

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Spinning Richard In His Grave

Earlier this month, DNA tests confirmed that remains unearthed by archeologists in Leicester, England, are those of former ruler Richard III. Adding insult to injury, Richard was found beneath a parking lot, where triumphant Tudors parked him after hacking off a chunk of his head during the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. Bummer.

richardRichard’s demise ended the War of the Roses, the brutal civil war that kept England in chaos for decades. But his remarkable reappearance has triggered another round of heavy fighting in the PR War of the Roses, a conflict that has raged for centuries. It’s a peculiar, passionately fought struggle that makes legendary grudge matches like Coke® vs. Pepsi®, Mac® vs. PC, and Ford® vs. Chevy® look like short-lived schoolyard spats. Over five hundred years after his foes laid him in his grave, supporters and detractors are still spinning Richard.

It wasn’t always good to be king, especially in not-so-merry olde England. Every time you tried to sit down, some upstart was shouting “Usurper!” and raising an army to pop a tallboy can of whup-ass on your royal claim. Family squabbles morphed into bitter wars that blundered across countries, continents and centuries. (And you thought Turkey Day was tough at your place.) Anyone looking for exemplary behavior in medieval monarchies better pack a lunch. Preferably one that will last for thirty years.

Nephews

The War of the Roses was still dragging on when Richard’s brother, King Edward IV, died of natural causes. Edward’s twelve-year-old son, Edward V, was next in line for the throne. Richard, a battle-hardened commander and fierce defender of his brother’s reign, was appointed Lord Protector of the realm. He was supposed to serve as a guide and guardian, shepherding the young prince to the highest seat in the land. It didn’t quite work out that way.

Parliament declared Edward V ineligible for the throne due to his dad’s convoluted marital history. Richard was crowned king, and both young Edward and his little brother vanished from the Tower of London, never to be seen alive again.

Richard ruled for two years before a rare battlefield bungle left him unhorsed, unhelmeted and unceremoniously dethroned. The victorious Henry Tudor hardly had the strongest of claims to the crown. But as King Henry VII, he established a dynasty that can be traced all the way to the Windsors, the current English royal family. (Insert stately wave here.)

Warring factions learned the value of public relations long before the rise of social media. And we all know that history is written by the winners. As soon as Richard was out of the picture, the Tudors kicked their marketing machine into high gear, painting him as one of the most vicious villains ever to walk the earth.

Ol ShakeyIt pays to have a great writer knocking this stuff out, and the Tudors lucked into the greatest of them all: William Shakespeare. Written a century or so after the King’s downfall, the bard’s “Richard III” sealed the public perception of Richard in glorious prose. Physically and mentally twisted, Shakespeare’s Richard is a “poisonous bunch-back’d toad” who delights in every dastardly deed as he murders his way to the top. Anyone who steps or stumbles between him and the throne is doomed, including his darling nephews. Thank goodness the glorious Tudors put that mad dog down!

But there have always been those who saw things differently. Richard’s champions say that, though the king did suffer from curvature of the spine, he was far from the homicidal, hunchbacked slimeball of Tudor smears. In their eyes, Richard III is a courageous warrior who triumphed over his physical handicap and a kindly king whose reign was cut short by envious traitors. They point out that Richard enacted much-needed economic reforms. That he lifted restrictions on the publishing and distribution of books. And that he implemented a series of major legal reforms—including establishing bail, limiting property seizures, and creating courts where previously unrepresented commoners could bring their cases.

Fans claim that Parliament’s appointment of Richard was transparent and legal, not some prearranged backroom deal. They also remind us that there’s no solid evidence that the king had anything to do with his nephews’ disappearance. After all, Richard’s rivals would have benefitted from the two princes vanishing as much or more than he did.

R3F2

Richard’s proponents have formed various “Ricardian” societies devoted to reforming his image. Re-positioning a tarnished royal brand centuries after it left the shelf seems like a noble cause, but the haters are having none of it. The PR War of the Roses rages on, with both sides taking advantage of this month’s news to rush to the media battlements and fire off their opinions. Meanwhile, Richard sleeps the long, long sleep of kings, dreaming of the horse that will deliver him from the presence of his enemies. Perhaps it’s a Ford Mustang with the lot entry stub stuck in the cupholder.

Sorry, Chevy.

(Note: In addition to the whole “good king/bad king” controversy, I am well aware of another ongoing debate. Namely, whether or not William Shakespeare wrote any plays, much less a classic like “Richard III.” Please, one centuries-long historical brouhaha at a time, dear reader. I’ve got a lunch date.)

 

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The Dirt On Stolen Tide®

T1Last spring, a series of stories centering on a legendary household name bubbled up in the press.  Tide® laundry detergent was becoming one of the most-stolen products in America. The trend was puzzling, since skilled shoplifters typically snatch small, high-ticket items and Tide comes in a bulky plastic jug. Stranger still, those bright orange jugs were often the targets of organized raiding parties. While a car idled in the parking lot with the trunk open, crooks crammed carts with Tide, rushed outside, filled the trunk, and made a (ahem) clean getaway. Individual stores were being struck repeatedly, some several times a day.

Soon, jugs of Tide began turning up at crime scenes, especially drug busts. What did detergent have to do with that dirty business? Could Tide be the secret ingredient in some new designer drug? Were thugs really calling America’s bestselling laundry soap “liquid gold”? Initial reaction was skeptical. Reports of stolen Tide were dismissed as overblown at best and non-stories at worst. But almost a year later, it’s clear that the naysayers were wrong. Blame it on the power of branding.

Tide_Liquid_Detergent

An instant hit when it was introduced in the 1940’s, Tide was the first heavy-duty synthetic detergent. Its innovative, surfactant-based formula  made machine washing in hard water possible, eliminating issues caused by minerals in local water supplies. Backed by Proctor & Gamble’s relentless brand building, Tide quickly sent the previous laundry category leader down the drain. Remember Rinso®? Didn’t think so. Over 60 years after its arrival, Tide still dominates the detergent market, commands an impressive premium price, and inspires fierce brand loyalty.

Like Coke®, McDonald’s® or Levi’s®, Tide is an American icon gone global. Brands like Apple®, Google® and Facebook® may get all the buzz, but Tide is a marketer’s dream. A classic Proctor & Gamble success story, it has never suffered the sorts of setbacks encountered by the other brands I’ve mentioned.

The mystery of the missing detergent has a simpler answer than initially imagined: Strong branding has turned Tide into a form of currency in certain corners of the underworld. Crack and weed dealers are happy to take payment in Tide instead of cash. (A boosted jug is valued at less than half the retail price.) Dealers know they can sell it at a profit to individuals happy to pay less than full price. Or in bulk to shady retailers happy to boost narrow margins on a wildly popular product. Drug users know it’s far less risky to pilfer Tide than pull off an armed robbery. Professional thieves are smart enough to pick up on the trend. And even the dimmest criminal mind realizes that proving a jug of Tide is stolen is practically impossible.

P&G has condemned the Tide thefts as unfortunate and inappropriate, while declining further comment. But you can bet they’re keeping a close eye on a situation that could stain a brand synonymous with decades of unsullied success.

TideRow

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Worst Case Congress

images-1Few could have been surprised when, following the finale of The Fiscal Cliff Follies, a survey revealed that We the People hold the 112th Congress in low esteem. Lower, that is, than cockroaches, colonoscopies, used-car salesmen, Nickelback, Donald Trump, traffic jams and head lice, among other delights.

Even Brussels sprouts fared better than our be-hated bicameral legislature. Brussels sprouts! Second only to Lima beans as the most feared vegetable a kid can face on grandma’s holiday table. There they are, scattered on the platter like a miniature minefield between you and the pumpkin pie. Still, those malevolent micro-cabbages clobbered congress in a direct comparison, earning an approval rating that tripled the legislative branch’s shamefully puny percentage.

What, according to Public Policy Polling, could we possibly hold in lower regard than the house and senate? Telemarketers, John Edwards, the Kardashians, communism, lobbyists, North Korea, Fidel Castro, the Ebola virus, playground bullies, Lindsey Lohan, meth labs, communism and gonorrhea.

In short, there’s only one way things could be worse:

BrussellsSenate Majority Leader Lindsey Lohan and Speaker of the House Kim Kardashian take the advice of lobbyist Fidel Castro and enact legislation declaring the United States a communist country. New, government-owned meth labs fund the costly transition to a Marxist economy. Playground bullies are hired as telemarketers, calling all of us at home   during dinner to spread the news. Finally, John Edwards and a cadre of North Korean bioweapons experts knock on the front door, offering you the choice of the Ebola virus or an STD.

Please pass the Brussels sprouts.

(Sadly, all of the poll results mentioned above are real. You can click on the link below to see the complete Public Policy Poll congressional approval survey results.)

http://goo.gl/6E39p

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Scrooging Marley

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Cave In At The Data Mine

Data Edit 4Disaster struck the data mining industry this week when a cave in at the Omnivore Corporation’s InfoGrab Data Mine trapped miner Dylan Dinkins beneath several tons of adorable kitten videos for three days. The cave in and subsequent rescue effort are the focus of a new investigation by the Federal Mine Safety Bureau.

Located in the Nevada desert, uncomfortably close to both Area 51 and Las Vegas, Omnivore’s InfoGrab Mine has boomed in recent years as the global demand for consumer data has swelled.

“Big business has a big appetite big data, and we serve it up like the Shoney’s breakfast bar on a busy Sunday morning,” said Omnivore spokesperson Kurt Duggans.  “Whether a national discount store chain wants to learn which brand of underwear you prefer, a health insurer needs to know how many margaritas you drank last week, or the Ukrainian mafia is hot for grandma’s social security number, Omnivore is here to help. We do everything possible to ensure the safety of our miners as they go about their business.”

Miners Left

But critics disagree, and point out that the Dinkins incident is merely the latest in a series of events indicating safetyprocedures at the Omnivore facility are below current standards.  In December, 2011, Griffin Meeks, then an intern at the InfoGrab mine, was washed away when a digital dam collapsed and released a flood of Kim Kardashian tweets. His body was never recovered.  In August of 2012, over a dozen data miners were blinded by a clip that purported to teach viewers the “horsy dance” from Korean pop star Psy’s “Gangnam Style” video, but was actually an infomercial promoting the Albanian pornography industry.

The U.S. government has acknowledged that data mining is an inherently dangerous occupation due to the vast chasms between what consumers claim they are doing online and their actual activities. While some in congress have pushed for additional regulation, others believe it would hamper the growth of the industry. Dylan Dinkins, who is currently being treated for dehydration and exposure at Our Lady of Luck Hospital in Reno, refused to comment.

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Turn Right After Stupidd

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Lively Indeed

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How Hard Could It Be?

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