At some point all food brands resort to cutting their product with some type of marketing additive: Want to spend more time with your kids? Take ‘em out to eat. Want to relax more? Eat meals prepared by someone else. Not good at one-on-one communication? Everyone’s eloquent while talking over dinner! Want to show someone you care? Buy them some chocolates or a romantic dinner. Want to feel healthy? Eat Subway. Want to make sports more fun to watch? Order Pizza Hut. Feeling down? Eat Comfort Foods like Ben & Jerry’s, Campbell’s Soup, or Tollhouse Cookies. Want to feel more athletic? Eat a PowerBar, or better yet, try these diet pills… Whatever dream you’re trying to make real, we’ll cut our product with it. It’s all about addiction. Why? Because when push comes to shove, people just aren’t that hungry that often. There’d be half as many fast food joints if people only ate when they were hungry. But business stays hungry for sales and profits, so we cut.
You know, I’ve actually seen pushers tell kids, even teenagers, “No, you don’t want this.” But when’s the last time AOL told kids to get off the ‘net and read a book? And videogames didn’t become an $11.4 billion a year industry6 by telling everyone to drop the joysticks and go outside and play. I’ll even do you one better: Dope dealers don’t chase people down to sell drugs. But marketers? We hunt you down. If you don’t watch TV, we’ll show up in your favorite magazine. Don’t read? We’re on billboards when you’re outside; we do pop-ups and email you when you’re online. We’ll sponsor your favorite team or sport. We’ll product-place our way into your favorite movies and TV shows. We’ll get your favorite artists to name-check us in song. And while we’re hunting you down, we’re going after your kids thru trumped-up cartoons and videogames, product-placement in schools, etc. We can’t won’t don’t stop. We are relentless.
It’s funny… Every addict I ever knew stayed chasing their first high—the one that made them feel like they could fly and anything was possible. I’ve seen people buy a new suit or a new car or a new pair of gym shoes and get that same look in their eyes, like it’s a high. For a moment, a split-second, they believe the hype. For a day, maybe a week they actually feel better about themselves just because they’re wearing that hot Sean John suit or driving a new Maybach or eating in that exclusive new restaurant. Can afford the stuff or not is irrelevant; all that matters is that in that moment, in that space, at time they are feeling no pain.
So they become brand loyal, not so much because the product or service works or is affordable, but because they know how they feel when they have it. They’re little boys who once jumped off their beds believing their Superman Underoos could help them fly or the Jordans ‘cuz they thought it could be the shoes. They’re the adults who think they’re important because they bought their way into VIP or the country club. They’re just addicts, plain and simple. (And lemme tell you: as a pusher, there’s nothing like hours of focus group footage of people talking about how addicted they are to your brand’s cut.)
















