Eye Magazine

This thorough and entertainingly written book questions whether ‘purpose’ still works as a branding strategy, writes Patrick Baglee.

The author of The Road to Hell, writer and branding strategist Nick Asbury, defines the term as follows: ‘Broadly, it’s the idea that businesses should define themselves around a wider societal purpose that goes beyond simply doing what they do in order to make a profit, pay their people and pay their taxes. It’s the claim that businesses should set their sights on something broader and more socially positive than that.’ The book comes at a turning point in the role that ‘purpose’ has played in branding, marketing, advertising and corporate ‘washing’.

Asbury admits it would seem strange to be to be against social purpose. Over five chapters, he steadily expands on the single phrase that he suggests could have been substituted for the entire book: ‘purpose is good when it’s real, bad when it isn’t’.

The book begins by setting out the history of ‘purpose’ as an idea, reflecting on how it has inspired bad marketing, and offers some thoughts on what structures and strategies might help re-set the conversation for brands in a ‘post-purpose’ world.

In chapter two, we learn that the term began its contemporary existence as an alternative to ‘ideals’, following research commissioned by former Procter & Gamble chief marketing officer Jim Stengel to find out whether a strong sense of ideals led to better business performance. The hard numbers said yes, and lo, the business world followed.

Asbury chooses his references carefully. Two stand out. The first cites advertising creative director Bill Bernbach, who said that a principle isn’t a principle until it costs you something. Asbury observes that today’s advertisers have flipped the thought: ‘Now it isn’t a principle until it makes you money.’

The second reference is slightly more unexpected, given that graphic design does not feature extensively in the book. In choosing the ‘We, the undersigned’ poster by Crosby / Fletcher / Forbes, he pays the design trio (soon to become Pentagram) a back-handed compliment. On its release in 1970, the poster (which features 24 famous signatures, including those of Goya, Bell, Wren and Einstein) failed in its objective to maintain free entry to national museums and galleries. Years later, however, Labour minister Chris Smith recalled the poster’s argument when explaining his motivation for reinstating free entry. Witty thinking made a lasting impression.

Asbury quotes brand consultant and marketing professor Mark Ritson, who talks about the ‘intention-action’ gap – the space between what people say and what they ultimately do – and the fact they tend to ‘knowingly or unknowingly, overclaim the importance of purpose in their purchase decisions to look less like a wanker.’

Two businesses demonstrate contrasting approaches to purpose. The first, Newman’s Own, founded by actor Paul Newman and his neighbour Aaron Hotchner, began with a salad dressing and the strapline ‘Fine foods since February’. Newman had said he didn’t care about making money, and so any profit they made would be given to charity. He happily disabused anyone of the notion that he had done any of this to meet a lofty purpose.

This Asbury compares to clothing brand Patagonia’s approach and asks whether Newman would have been comfortable to be filmed, as Patagonia’s founder Yvon Chouinard was, writing out the phrase ‘Earth is now our only shareholder’, before ‘gazing meaningfully out of the window’. Newman was unenthusiastic about his picture appearing on the packaging of his product. Asbury happily places hubris at Patagonia’s door, and a quiet good work ethic at Newman’s, for whom ‘noisy philanthropy’ was anathema.

The book’s belief in creativity’s role in generating meaningful and relevant work is cause for celebration. In an open-ended conclusion Asbury suggests several ways of bringing creativity back into a post-purpose world – principles he believes can guide corporations and marketing and advertising agencies away from hubris. They require us to re-connect with humility, humanity, empathy and a sense of humour rather than clinging to the overriding global flavour of the month.

For Asbury, purpose is the opposite of creativity: ‘Purpose is a closed mindset: it decides the goal in advance. We are asked to start with why and head off down that path, pre-emptively closing off the many potential paths that don’t fit with the goal but might lead somewhere more meaningful.’ Awards schemes, creative organisations, judges and juries have followed suit, to the extent that work absent of an underlying narrative of social purpose is somehow a lesser creative endeavour.

In 2004 the UN set out Environmental, Social and Governance (ESG) targets. Asbury expresses the view that these are being imperilled by inconsistent definition and co-option by those who believe that you ‘do well by doing good’. Though not a major topic in the book’s broad scope, it seems clear that the relationship between ESG targets and purpose has become confused, which is regrettable given the clear aims of ESG initiative versus the free-for-all that purpose has become.

This important reflection on purpose highlights the perils of hitching corporate reputation and commercial outcome to whichever wagon du jour happens to trundle by. And even though the sound of the wheels of purpose might be fading somewhat, there will surely be some other thought coming alongside soon enough to offer the opportunists a fresh philosophy to plunder.

Patrick Baglee, writer, Cambridgeshire

Top. Cover of The Road to Hell, designed by David Pearson.

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More Eye articles by Patrick Baglee
Nick Asbury’s website