Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast

SITBB Vault: Like White on Rice

Well, I learned one thing from my discussions about one of MasterFoods' recent re-branding campaigns: Some folks sure do love their Uncle Ben's rice! (For example, see this BlogHer post, plus the comments--including several by your's truly.) I have re-visited the site in preparation for this SITBB re-posting. Still, Chairman Uncle Ben is apparently MIA from his swanky office. But I was pleased to read about this effort with Laila Ali and Second Harvest. I guess that is progress--or at least something akin to it. Meanwhile, these kinds of images persist, often in unexpected places. Recently NPR had a piece with the author of a newspaper article about the relegation of many African American female actors to the sassy "best friend" role, catering to the needs of White female leads but rarely having a life of their own. I do not know what annoyed me more--that Hollywood (still) seems so nostalgic for Black Mammies, or that the mainstream media is just now noticing what many Black folks have known and talked about for forever. ...Well. Different day and different song, but the same beat goes on. (Or something.) Recently we remodelled our basement. The previous owners had wallpapered the stairwell to the basement in old Twin Cities newspapers from the 40s. Displayed prominently smack dab in the middle of this large wall was a full-page advertisement featuring Aunt Jemima herself. (An added bonus were several other racist depictions in ads and cartoon funnies scattered on the wall.) All that paper was very difficult to remove--I think because the previous owners affixed it with regular glue instead of wallpaper glue. But I do not think that was the full explanation for why I scraped particularly vigorously when I got to this portion of the wall. (In fact, I scraped so hard that I removed a deep section of drywall that I had to then patch before painting.) It was as if gouging this image from my wall were symbolic of a much deeper need. Now the wall (and whole basement) looks great. The pale goldenrod yellow paint on the stairwell makes that area look bright and happy. Yet sometimes when I head down the stairs, I imagine a haunted spot where I can still see Aunt Jemima's smiling face. Maybe I actually miss her. Or something.

or, When a Bad Brand Goes (Even Further) Wrong

I have had a post in my draft folder for a couple weeks now about a wonderful re-branding effort going on at my degree granting College here at the U. But in the meantime, this story caught my eye, and I couldn't resist commenting on it. In this case, it is a re-branding effort gone terribly, terribly wrong, IMO. So the positive example will have to wait.

But where to even begin. How about with a little background.

Uncle Ben's Cabin

It is an oddity of the history of advertising that Black folks have been featured so often as part of companies' brand identity. Apparently, at one point in time nothing could prompt a consumer to snatch a product off of a grocery shelf like a demeaning characterization of a smiling Negro. Of course, two of the better known Black characters are Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben. (No relation? It's hard to say as neither has ever had a last name. This blogger is trying to matchmake them, though, so I hope they are not already kin...) I've talked before here about my relationship to the whole history of "racial naming." Suffice it to say that for certain generations of Blacks, it is not endearing for White folks to refer to us as Uncle or Aunt (unless we are, in fact, their uncle or aunt.)

Uncle Ben's image is most often discussed as part of the broader "Uncle Tom" racist caricature, seen in everything from advertising to film. This wonderful site sums up the image well. Aunt Jemima is often discussed as characteristic of the "Mammy" caricature. The same site linked in the previous sentence also provides a good description of Mammy depictions in advertising and elsewhere. The interesting thing about the pancake lady is that she underwent a make-over in the late 80s. Slimmed down, dressed up, no kerchief wrapped round her head. According to the company's History web page, today "the Aunt Jemima products continue to stand for warmth, nourishment and trust – qualities you’ll find in loving moms from diverse backgrounds who care for and want the very best for their families. "

That's Chairman Uncle Ben

Enter the rice man's makeover. According to the NYT story:

A racially charged advertising character, who for decades has been relegated to a minor role in the marketing of the products that still carry his name, is taking center stage in a campaign that gives him a makeover — Madison Avenue style — by promoting him to chairman of the company.

You can visit his virtual office here. I didn't last very long in his office. With each click the sour taste in my mouth grew fouler and fouler. I expected at any minute to see a cheesin' and shufflin', bow-tie clad older virtual Black man jump out from his task of sharpening pencils to greet me by name. This blogger was braver than I, actually using the "chat" feature to engage the new Chairman in conversation. (If you can call it that.) Here's an excerpt of their exchange:

[Guest]: Hi [Ben]: In Packaging Department. viewing the new box. It is a remarkable likeness. Will speak with you shortly. [Guest]: That's great. [Ben]: It is difficult to type and eat rice at the same time. Let’s talk when I am done. [Guest]: I don't like rice. [Ben]: Am attending the Beau Brummell Celebration in London. Will be my pleasure to chat upon my return. [Guest]: Wait -- I thought you were in the packaging department! [Ben]: In Packaging Department. viewing the new box. It is a remarkable likeness. Will speak with you shortly.

Obviously still some bugs to work out. But my guess is Ben's neither overseeing efforts in the Packaging Deptartment nor sipping wine at some event in England, but--like I said--in an inner office sharpening pencils or involved in some other non-task his higher-ups assigned him as part of his "promotion." Back to the Times:

“This is an interesting idea, but for me it still has a very high cringe factor,� said Luke Visconti, partner at Diversity Inc. Media in Newark, which publishes a magazine and Web site devoted to diversity in the workplace.

“There’s a lot of baggage associated with the image,� Mr. Visconti said, which the makeover “is glossing over.�

Uncle Ben, who first appeared in ads in 1946, is being reborn as Ben, an accomplished businessman with an opulent office, a busy schedule, an extensive travel itinerary and a penchant for sharing what the company calls his “grains of wisdom� about rice and life. A crucial aspect of his biography remains the same, though: He has no last name.

Indeed.

And the "cringe factor" just multiplies and multiplies. For example, asks one commenter to this site, "Does anyone else see irony in the company's name — MasterFoods?" And several commenters elsewhere in the blogosphere have redubbed the company "Massafoods."

I am no advertising executive. But this does not appear to be a re-branding effort that is destined to bear much fruit. Or grains of converted rice, as the case may be.

Ben There; Dumb, That

I do not buy Uncle Ben's Rice. Never have. (And at this rate, never will.) I also do not buy any Aunt Jemima products. And if any of the products below were still available today, I wouldn't buy them either. I come by this aversion to financing my own denigration honestly. As a child when we would travel the country by car, my father would drive 50 miles out of the way to avoid having us stop at a Sambo's Restaurant for a meal or bathroom break.

The restaurant, perhaps not surprisingly, is also involved in a rebranding effort. This site attempts to set the story straight. Sambo's, we're told, was based on the names of the eatery's founders, and the use of the book's characters came about only later. (The whole story of The Story of Little Black Sambo is an interesting tale in its own right, but beyond this blog post. Begin here for further reading.) I'm not sure how helpful this re-telling is for understanding the restaurant--or the book and its many incarnations, for that matter. Why and how did folks running the comapany think that adorning their restaurant with images of "picanninies" would be a good marketing move? How do they now think that harkening back to India's colonial past would be a better or more sensitive move?

Beauty and the Brand

Companies, universities, and all manner of other entities spend millions in efforts to establish, redirect, and update their images. The book that I discuss in my still-draft blog post about CEHD's rebranding is about what is being called "the attention economy." In the Information Age, the scarce commodity that becomes extremely valuable is human attention. Not money, not information, not even "knowledge." And certainly not an awareness of history. What matters is eyeballs to content. And when that is what matters, image is everything. (The book I'll talk about speaks of this in terms of "fluff over stuff.")

So what do we make of companies' apparent reluctance to totally excise images of slavery and Jim Crow in trying to focus consumers' eyeballs on products on crowded grocery shelves? I have framed the Uncle Ben's effort as a potential fiasco, a massive marketing mistake. But what if it is, instead, a savvy business move? What if the company has discovered via its focus groups that images that remind people of the good old days of subservient, happy Blacks (who could sho-nuff cook!) continue to be comforting and endearing to many modern consumers?

Perhaps advertising's racist past not even past, but only an old package in need of rebranding.

For further information on this topic, see the book Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben, and Rastus: Blacks in Advertising, Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow.

Posted by perry032 at October 1, 2007 10:08 AM | TrackBack
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