A while back, someone had joked on Twitter that by 2025, babies will be born outraged. But in 2020, the joke, at least in Indian advertising, is that when the Tanishq brand manager begins to think of a campaign, #BoycottTanishq starts trending. When I was writing the article on brands and empathy for Business Insider, I realised it would need a lot of effort for brands to go beyond signalling.
However, with inequities becoming even more of a pressing topic, and the expectation from brands to be active participants in society – activism to action, is there an inevitable movement that we will see? And hence, this post on brands through the prism of activism and morality, from the perspectives of a consumer and a brand marketer, and the safety of an armchair.
“We are living in an era of woke capitalism in which companies pretend to care about social justice to sell products to people who pretend to hate capitalism.”
Eleven stories that take you on a rollercoaster ride of myriad emotions. As the blurb promises, the stories provoke and entertain.
The subjects range from mythology, fantasy and social media influencers to murder, sexuality and horror. That last one (The Itch), I thought, had the potential to spin off into a standalone book/series. There’s also a mix of narrative styles – first person, letters, a YouTube monologue. What this achieves for each story is a character, flavour, and mood that is uniquely its own. What also stands out is the complete lack of a pattern, including the pace of the narrative. Some proceed at a leisurely pace, while others pack a lot in within a few pages.
In just around 150 pages, there are worlds and corners that you will discover. I have at least five that I liked a lot. Smoke & Mirrors and The Herpetologist for the insight into the human condition and the empathy, Mariam’s Tears for the absolutely bizarre pop in the middle of the book, The Price of Apples for its innocence and sensitivity, and Kalika for the smart dose of philosophy. Pick it up to find your favourite. 🙂
(I know the author, but though I feel really happy for her, I can safely say there is very little bias in the review)
We made the trek to Indiranagar because the first part of the name described the last few months, and the second half was exactly what we needed. Actually, it happened to be midway for all parties, and it was expansive with no air conditioning. Am I justifying too much? Ok. Let’s move on.
The entry to this place is a little tricky. I suspect that we were not the first folks to try the entrance behind the 3M showroom. We saw another couple do the same while we were leaving. But only a few would have climbed up four flights of stairs before realising their mistake! 😐 The tiny gate after the 3M building is the actual entrance, and thankfully, there’s only a lift!
It was surprisingly packed for a Saturday afternoon, and I don’t think they were prepared for it!
It all began sweetly. Actually, a little too sweetly. I can understand the Belgian Chocoholic (dark chocolate ganache and dark rum) and even the Sangria being sweet, but the Old Fashioned needs a balance. And they didn’t get that right. The Sangria was actually not bad, and thanks to the dose of brandy, D was extra happy until late evening!
We were famished by the time we got there, ans thankfully, they were able to get the Wings pretty fast. The Bhoot Jholokia version wasn’t available, and we were recommended the Peri Peri (not on the menu). This was spicy enough to make me forget the sweetness of the Old Fashioned for a while. But then began the extensive delay!
We had to remind them about all the dishes we ordered, at least twice. When the twice-cooked pork belly finally arrived, it was half cooked. The insides were frozen! A complete waste of pork. The Calamari was probably fresh – judging by the delay, it had arrived at our table straight from the coast!
Such were the delays that we worried that the mains would equate to dinner! But we persevered. Unfortunately, it wasn’t worth the wait. Both the dishes we tried – the Spaghetti Carbonara and the Fully Loaded Meat pizza were insipid in terms of flavours. Meanwhile, even by the end of the meal, the Akuri on toast we had ordered a couple of hours ago hadn’t materialised.
But a word of mention for the courtesy of the staff. They tried their best to make up for the inefficiency of the kitchen (I think they were short-staffed). They even got a couple of milkshakes for the kids, though it wasn’t on the menu.
A meal for two with a couple of drinks, and an equal number of starters and mains would set you back by around Rs.2500.
Towards the end of the book, the author cites a survey which found that “almost a third of Americans would rather give up sex for a year than part with their mobile phone for that long”. Sex has been hardwired in us by evolution, and it’s a testament to technology that it has managed to hack even that! But then again, there was a time when even the printing press was called the biggest source of distraction. So this isn’t a new story. But we do live in a world in which the attention economy has optimised its notifications and nudges to ensure that it is heard/seen/felt. All the time. Whether we need it or not. It has us hooked and sometimes we don’t even know how much!
This is the challenge that Nir Eyal writes about in Indistractable. He approaches it with a simple framework of internal and external triggers and distraction and traction (some nifty wordplay, that). The first thing to focus on, he says, is our own motivations – internal triggers. Not just the proximal reasons that are making us distracted, but the root cause. Our distractions are more often than not a way of escaping something we do not want to confront. He also believes we never run out of willpower and warns us against labelling ourselves as “easily distracted” or “addictive personality”. An opinion that I am not sure I agree with.
The rest of the book is a step by step guide on how to get to an “indistractable” state – from making time for traction (things we value) to taking control of external triggers by various means in personal and professional lives, and in social settings as well as when you’re by yourself. The suggestions are practical and quite doable once you decide that they need to be done. Ironically, the section that I found most interesting was how to inculcate this quality in children. Ironic, because I don’t have any. What made it interesting was the logical approach, one that seemed quite feasible.
The book keeps it simple, and is a good guide if you find yourself distracted more often than you’d like to be. I have been doing my own wrestling with “staying in the moment” for a while now and found most of the things mentioned a validation of what I try to practice.
This Diwali, brands that didn’t need festive-offer advertising to light up their sales figures used a sound strategy instead – empathy. From Facebook’s Pooja Didi to India’s first-ever hyper-personalised ad (this claim is disputed) by Cadbury, brands used the travails of a Covid-hit society to maximum effect. Health workers, local businesses, parents, domestic help, dabbawalas – everyone was at the receiving end of a psychological hug. However, it’s hard to distinguish between moment marketing and actual empathy these days. A mini primer on empathy helps elaborate my concern.
