PART I
PUTTING THE âCONâ INTO CONCEPT
2
Reviewing Marketing: The Defective Vision of Theodore Levitt
It is a truth universally acknowledged that âIt is a truth universally acknowledgedâ is the most compelling opening line in English Literature. Some bookworms, admittedly, might plump for âIt was the best of times, it was the worst of timesâ and others doubtless set great store by âCall me Ishmaelâ, âA spectre is stalking Europeâ or âIt was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteenâ.1 But few would deny that Jane Austenâs opening salvo in Pride and Prejudice is extremely hard to beat. So much so, that the unspeakable people who pontificate on matters of literary style invariably introduce their self-important thoughts with a contrived variation on Austenâs incomparable inaugural sentence.2
Have they no originality?
If, of course, an analogous Rhetorical Assessment Exercise were performed on the marketing literature, it is a truth universally acknowledged that thereâd be very few contenders for the âit is a truth universally acknowledgedâ title. Marketers, after all, are not exactly renowned for their literary acumen, nor do they claim to be. Most scholarly publications start with those sturdy, albeit less than stirring, words âThis paperâ or, when theyâre really pushing the philosophical boat out, âThe purpose of this paperâ. Writers targeting the practitioner market, furthermore, consistently commence with a corporate parable of the âJoe Doe faced a difficult situationâ variety. Happily, the organization â sometimes real, often fictional, always stricken â is unfailingly saved thanks to the wonder-working power of the modern marketing concept. Praise the Lord and pass the mess of 4Ps potage.3
Regrettably ubiquitous though such introductory banalities, barbarities and bromides undoubtedly are, marketing possesses at least one opening line of real literary merit. It is âEvery major industry was once a growth industryâ by the superlative Ted Levitt, stalwart of Harvard Business School and one of the greatest marketing gurus of all time.4 Although Levitt produced many other arresting pipe-openers and textual throat-clearers in the course of his glittering career â âGreed is boringâ, âNever leave well enough aloneâ and âThere is no such thing as a commodityâ spring immediately to mind â none quite attain the sublimity of âEvery major industryâ. It is succinct (eight words, many monosyllabic). It is bold (a statement of ostensible fact). It is aphoristic (easily remembered, eminently quotable). It is intriguing (curiously downbeat, the antithesis of marketing boosterism). It is anthropomorphic (imputes fallible human qualities to an inanimate object). It is allusive (shades of Arnold Toynbee, Oswald Spengler, Henry George and Edward Gibbon on the rise and fall of civilizations). It is almost biblical in its inalienability (in the beginning was the word, as it were). Most importantly of all, it is retro. It combines past and present to brilliant stylistic effect and, as the very first line of a 12-page paper, it intimates that a major statement about the future of marketing is about to unfold. Like Nietzsche, that most literary of philosophers, Levitt grabs his readers by the metaphorical lapels, shakes them vigorously and dares them not to read the rest of âMarketing Myopiaâ.
Few, it appears, have refused to take the Ted Levitt challenge, since âMarketing Myopiaâ is perhaps the most famous paper in the entire marketing literature.5 It has been anthologized on numerous occasions, cited on countless more, dissected in virtually every principles of marketing seminar and, akin to directorsâ cuts of influential Hollywood movies, it has even been reflected on and added to by the author himself.6 It was recognized as an instant classic at the time of publication (lead article in a leading journal, given the special this-is-sure-to-provecontroversial-read-it-at-your-peril editorial treatment,7 winner of the prestigious McKinsey Award for the best paper in Harvard Business Review that year) and subsequent decades have only served to increase its standing. At more than half a million copies sold, âMarketing Myopiaâ is by far the best-selling HBR reprint of all time. Whatâs more, it launched Levittâs career as marketingâs foremost spokesperson, a position he continues to hold notwithstanding the competitive onslaughts of Philip Kotler, Tom Peters and all the rest. Certainly, he is the only marketing person, alongside Kotler, routinely referred to in management primers, synopses and anthologies.8 To many nonmarketers, he represents the voice, the personification, the embodiment of the modern marketing concept. To many marketers, moreover, he is the fieldâs foremost thinker of the century just past and most would agree that âMarketing Myopiaâ is his greatest thought.
This does not mean, of course, that Theodore Levitt is some kind of intellectual one-hit wonder. On the contrary, his 1986 volume The Marketing Imagination has been translated into no fewer than eleven languages and was recently reprinted with the addition â naturally â of âMarketing Myopiaâ.9 Another anthology, Innovation in Marketing, won the annual Academy of Management award for best business book (again, it included his greatest hit)10 and he has had more papers published in HBR than any other management guru, acquiring four McKinsey Awards along the way.11 At the same time, however, it is true to say that the sheer brilliance of âMarketing Myopiaâ tends to overshadow the remainder of Levittâs literary oeuvre. Just as western philosophy is often described as a series of footnotes to Plato, so too modern marketing is a series of errata slips inserted into Tedâs bravura contribution. It is salutary to think that it has probably been read, inwardly digested and acted upon by more practitioners, academicians and students alike than any other article in the history of our field. The so-called âmodernâ marketing concept effectively began with âMarketing Myopiaâ and one suspects that the paper will continue to occupy pride of place until such time as it is tackled head-on and treated as a work of historical literature, rather than a compelling call to marketing arms.
When Levittâs masterpiece is examined from a historiographic perspective, several interesting issues arise. The first of these is that he got it completely wrong. Apart from outright factual errors in the historical overview, such as his misrepresentation of railroads marketing,12 Theoâs confident predictions concerning rocket-powered cars, ultrasonics, fuel cells, the end of the oil industry by 1985, etc., all proved sadly mistaken.13 It is, of course, the easiest thing in the world to take past futurologists to task, since hindsight â unlike marketing â is not myopic. In theory at least. Yet it says much for Levittâs literary ability that neither his historical misrepresentations nor his failings on the futurology front seem to have affected readersâ acceptance of the accompanying conceptual contentions. True, he has received a bit of a pasting in the strategic management literature,14 and at least one indigenous cynic has pounced on Levittâs flawed forecasts to dismiss the paper as a whole, describing them as âthe buggy-whip manufacturers, the railroad companies, the Hollywood studios of marketing discourseâ.15 Such is Levittâs rhetorical brilliance, nevertheless, that most readers seem content to overlook the articleâs errors of fact and method, or simply fail to infer that his conceptual argument might be as suspect as his prognostications. Levitt may not be much of a medium, but his message transcends space and time. Almost.
Another intriguing feature of âMarketing Myopiaâ is that it is mistitled. So much so, the paper is well nigh prosecutable under the Trade Descriptions Act. Now, this is not to suggest that it is badly titled. On the contrary, the root metaphor of âMarketing Myopiaâ is undeniably arresting. Not only is it based on the oracular trope that has characterized western philosophy since Descartes,16 if not before, but by suggesting that organizational failure is attributable to visual impairment, to an inability to see clearly, to a short-sighted focus on the product offer rather than the customer benefits thereby obtained, Levitt coined a conceptual conceit that calls down the years like none other. Myopia, indeed, has become the ultimate term of abuse within marketing discourse â a six-letter four-letter word, as it were â since being described as âmyopicâ is tantamount to being deemed anti-marketing, anti-business, anti-American. Nevertheless, the merest glance at âMarketing Myopiaâ reveals that the visual metaphor barely features in the body of the paper itself. Despite its admittedly brilliant title, there is a complete lack of visual imagery in âMarketing Myopiaâ. Incredible as it sounds, the piece is primarily predicated on aural analogies (âIf you had told them sixty years agoâ, âa nation of production-orientated business managers refuses to hear the great lesson he taughtâ, âit was not a discussible subject, or an askable questionâ, âyet the automobile companies do not seem to listenâ.) So marked is the aural metaphor that it should really be called âMarketing Misheardâ.
Metaphor, as the prominent literary critic Roman Jakobson reminds us, may be a very powerful figure of speech, but it is not the only one. Metonymy, where the part stands for the whole, is equally important.17 In this respect, it is striking that Levittâs article is best known for its myopia metaphor yet the paper itself is predominantly metonymical. That is to say, the author presents each of his highly specific, historically contingent company vignettes as exemplars for businesses and managers as a whole. Whatâs more, he considers the idiosyncratic contents of a single issue of a single trade magazine, the American Petroleum Institute Quarterly, to be indicative of the production-orientation ethos of an entire industry and, by metonymical extension, of industry per se.18 He contends that his three calamitous case studies contain lessons for all companies, in all places, at all times (by any stretch of the imagination, this is an incredible stretch of the imagination). Levitt himself, moreover, performs in an essentially metonymic capacity insofar as âMarketing Myopiaâ is the epitome of his entire literary corpus. As all of his signature textual stratagems â wordplay, hyperbole, humour, etc. â are on display in the paper, âMarketing Myopiaâ is to Theodore Levitt what Theodore Levitt is to marketing as a whole.
AprÚs myopia le déluge.
Whatever its metonymical merits, the (metaphorical) bottom line is that the root metaphor of âMarketing Myopiaâ is itself astigmatic, not to say dangerously defective. For Levitt, the fundamental mistake of Hollywood studios was that they considered themselves to be in the movie business rather than the entertainment business. The railroads, likewise, ran into the buffers because they failed to appreciate that they were in transportation, not tracks. The oil companies, similarly, didnât supply petrol but power, consumers wanted quarter-inch holes not electric drills, perfumers sold hope not fragrance, coffee drinkers quaffed liquid refreshment not dilute-to-taste caffeine and, last but not least, âthe organisation must learn to think of itself not as producing goods and services but as buying customersâ.19
While few would deny that it is senior managementâs duty to think about strategic issues â about what business their business is in â Levittâs laudable desire to avoid myopia brings with it the dangers of longsightedness, of marketing hyperopia.20 These include excessive diversification, unnecessary acquisitions, corporate sclerosis and the ruinous consequences of not âsticking to the knittingâ, as Levittâs latter-day bĂȘte noire once described it.21 The rise of specialist coffee vendors like Starbucks and Aroma suggests that many people require something more specific than liquid refreshment. It is by no means certain that any fragrance will do â anyone for Old Spice? â or any power tool, or sneakers, or blue jeans, or hamburger, or hi-fi, or automobile, or whatever. Indeed, if any motor car suffices why arenât we all driving rejectedby-focus-groups Rover 75s, or Ford any-colour-you-want Kas, or Neo what-colour-do-you-dream-in Beetles? Hollywood survived, surely, as much by its renewed commitment to making good movies, improving customer service (multiplexes, Dolby stereo, catering) and exploiting ancillary markets (videos, memorabilia, soundtracks), as it did by considering itself to be in the entertainment business, whatever that is exactly. To put it another way, is attending a performance of Taming of the Shrew really analogous, as Levitt would have us believe, to sitting at home watching Ten Things I Hate About You on DVD? The plots are identical, I grant you, but Ten Things has scene selection, soundtrack excerpts, the theatrical trailer and a blissful lack of talking, coughing, sweet-sucking people, whose heads always get in the way.22
Little, admittedly, is gained by lacerating Levitt for his shortsightedness â in truth, there is much to be said for myopia, the narrowness of vision that is oft-times necessary for commercial success â since the real astigmatism surrounding âMarketing Myopiaâ is not Levittâs. Itâs ours. We, the cockeyed readership, have either failed to see, or simply overlooked, the infirmities of Theoâs argument. In the kingdom of the blind the myopic marketing man may be king, but we must bear some responsibility for preferring not to see our emperorâs intellectual nakedness (pardon my parable plundering promiscuity). The brutal truth is that we choose not to notice Levittâs conceptual dĂ©colletage because he tells us what we want to hear, what we want to believe. Principally, that marketing is the be all and end all of management, that companies must be marketing orientated otherwise failure is certain, that marketing is a universal verity, relevant to all places, all times, all organizations. Levitt may not have been the first to portray marketing as the philosopherâs stone of management but his unparalleled powers of persuasion â his scholarly salesmanship, his cerebral chutzpah, his retro rhetoric, if you will â guaranteed that future generations of marketers would apply his prescription to the discipline itself. Marketing must not be myopic. Marketing must not be blinkered, bound, bashful, bettered. Marketing must.
Forty years have now passed since Levittâs inextinguishable exegesis and, as marketing stumbles around trying desperately to orient itself in a world where everyone is marketing-led, or claims to be, and there arenât any organizational apostates who have yet to see the light, it is clear that the discipline has been completely blinded by Father Tedâs stylistic brilliance. Indeed, the ultimate achievement of âMarketing Myopiaâ is that it conveys the impression of timelessness, that it is speaking the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It is nothing less than the gospel according to St Theodore, which if truly believed in and acted upon, will not only ensure worldly success but a much-prized place in the paradisal marketing hereafter. The concluding paragraphs in particular read like a cross between the imprecations of an Old Testament prophet, the histrionics of a hellfire-and-brimstone evangelist and, not least, neo-Nietzschean bombast of the God-is-dead-long-live-God variety.
Although âMarketing Myopiaâ continues to give the impression of imperishability, the philologists, hermeneuts and archaeologists of knowledge amongst us will readily appreciate that it was very much an artefact of its time. Just as the abstruse post-structuralist theorist, Paul de Man, maintains that blindness affords insight, since what we ignore is as important as what we examine,23 so too the ultimate form of marketing myopia concerns âMarketing Myopiaâ. Generally speaking, we have been so mesmerized by its gratifyingly flattering message that weâve failed to see that it was written at a particular point in time, in a specific historical setting and dealt with important issues of immediate concern. In order to grasp the contemporary significance of âMarketing Myopiaâ, it is necessary to appreciate its historical context.
It is no exaggeration to state that the 1950s have acquired a kind of Pleasantvillesque lustre. They are regarded as an Edenic era, a bygone black and whit...