When asked about humanity’s raison d’etre, one of the greatest scientific minds of our age, Dr. Brian Cox, suggested that, in the absence of other intelligent life, our existence “brings meaning to the universe”. In other words, having created pretty much everything, The Almighty didn’t just see that it was good; He wanted an audience to show appreciation. As a template for the concept of ‘purpose’, you could say it is unbeatable: create a product – us, for that matter – then give it meaning beyond its otherwise contemptible base functions.
So far, so good. Fast forward a few billion years to the past few and we find marketers demonstrating great admiration for a higher power by embracing His template enthusiastically and going to great lengths to suggest that their brands are not just a revenue provider but the means to end poverty, feed the hungry, save the humpback whale, bring peace to all mankind and, ideally, get Gen Z to believe their companies’ green credentials rather than notice their manic pursuit of the greenback.
Yup, Gen Z. Those entitled brats who have somewhat managed to convince themselves that their voracious appetite for consumption is perfectly compatible with their zero tolerance for anything remotely unsustainable and their undiluted love for its opposite. Cue, then, The Great Brand Purpose Drive. Think we are selling detergents stuffed with phosphates that deplete oxygen in waterways? Think again! We save water by being doubly concentrated! Car manufacturer? Oh, ye of little faith! We stand for mobility and the relentless forward motion of mankind! Sportswear manufacturers? Ha! Curators of urban street art, if you don’t mind.
Read more predictions for 2025 from industry leaders here.
Suddenly, every brand was sticking a halo above its logo and the Cannes Festival was starting to look like what the UN really should have been. So much so that, a couple of years ago, a Unilever investor, fed up with the company’s obsession with anything brand-purpose-y, argued that “a company which feels it has to define the purpose of Hellman’s mayonnaise has clearly lost the plot”.
In fact, it wasn’t just the plot that had gone missing: it was the very greenbacks manically pursued. The trouble with many of those corporations hell-bent on brand purpose is that they were retrofitting, something that our sought-after brats would never buy, no matter how many Kendall Jenners you threw into the soft drink mix: a generation defined by a confusing duality can spot a hypocrite miles away. Cue, then, The Great Backlash, which bizarrely put brands at the receiving end of the ire of tree-huggers on the one hand, and the anti-woke right wing on the other.
‘‘I expect purpose to be confined to the realm of startups and nascent brands.”
The most infuriating thing for many brand purpose aficionados, however, was that while they were frantically trying to extricate themselves from the rising swamps of greenwashing, rainbow-washing and save-the-polar bear-washing, others were basking in the spotlight of public attention and bright forecasts.
Call it karma, if you will, but intentions do matter after all, because those reaping the rewards were those who had been genuine all along: those for whom purpose was not a brief to their ad agencies but part of their DNA makeup. Those who were created in the pursuit of a purpose. Brands such as Patagonia and Tom’s, in other words.
I mention Patagonia and Tom’s not just because they are brands that started from an ethos they subscribed to, but because theirs is the blueprint as far as brand purpose is concerned – the blueprint for my 2025 prediction in that arena, as a matter of fact.
Indeed, I expect purpose to be increasingly confined to the realm of startups and nascent brands who believably demonstrate that they have a conscience that transcends mere commercial pursuits, while legacy brands are more likely to adopt a measured approach: one that treads carefully between the risks of greenwashing on the one hand and those of wokeism on the other, restricting it to tactical projects which, if successful, would benefit the brand or be swiftly discarded if not.
In other words, brands issued from a genuine desire to, say, save the polar bear and preserve obscure tribes’ way of living, and whose products actively promote the kind of ethical living that puts a respectable veneer on Gen Z’s notorious double standards, are more likely to reap purpose’s promised rewards.
Established brands, meanwhile, spurred on by the realisation that passing fads and quick fixes are increasingly attracting the wrath of the marketing fates, are more likely to return to their roots, dust off their own books on the fundamentals of brand building and, well, get reacquainted with the plot.
The holy scriptures of marketing may all agree that nothing is created without a loftier motivation, but they also agree on the fact that truth is an essential commandment when you want to spread the word.
By Ramsey Naja, Creative Partner, Das Kapital
