In
the midst of a brand workshop that I was conducting recently one of the
participants asked me smirkingly “So, as a brand professional. What’s your
opinion on Patanjali?”
Now
that’s a loaded question and I knew that any answer would solicit a debate. So,
I answered rather sternly “I have huge respect for that brand. But lets save
that discussion for later. We are already running behind schedule”
The
smirk on his face gave way to an expression of surprise. This was not the first
time when my admiration for brand Patanjali got me that look.
But
here is the thing about Patanjali. It might not fit into the conventional
notion of FMCG ‘brand building’ but it’s a brand that’s giving some of the
biggest FMCG companies a run for their money.
It’s
not a brand built by an array of brand managers and agencies well attuned with
Kotler’s principles of marketing. In fact, it’s a brand that challenges the
traditional norms of marketing, and hence, makes a lot of us from the marketing
fraternity with our b-school elitism,
a bit uncomfortable.
We
can not begin the discussion on ‘Brand Patanjali’ without talking about its
biggest ‘brand ambassador’ – Baba Ramdev. So, let me clarify upfront. I don’t
have any affinity for the ‘spiritual’ leader Baba Ramdev, but I have (developed
over a period of time) a considerable regard for ‘brand builder’ Baba Ramdev
My
tryst with Patanjali products started with a feeling of doubt and disregard.
Last year, I had gone home to visit my parents in Agra and to my disdain found
that they had replaced their regular toiletries brands with Patanjali. For a
brand snob like me this was blasphemy-that my parents were trading the legacy
of global brands (from the house of Levers and P&G) with a brand from
Haridwar. How could they?
Like
a good ‘brand abiding’ citizen, I tried persuading them to move back to the
‘trusted’ brands built over years of scientific research (and marketing). But
they didn’t budge. To be honest, my parent’s steadfastness and loyalty to
Pantajali was the reason I gave it a try, albeit, with bare minimum
expectations and a firm belief that the product will fail at the real moment of
truth, i.e. trial.
But
surprise, surprise! No matter how much I was determined to ‘not like’ it, the
Patanjali product (shampoo in this case) didn’t give me a reason to complain.
Like most consumers, I am not an expert to comment scientifically on the
efficacy of the product- but to put it simply – it didn’t feel any inferior to
the brand I otherwise used. Unlike the pungent smell of most ayurvedic products
that I had used before, this one even smelled nice. While still in the shower,
washing shampoo off my eyes- I looked for the price. It was cheaper than most
of the ‘reputed’ brands on the shelf.
Suddenly,
memories of that old Nirma ad flooded my over imaginative mind where the
conversation between a shopkeeper and the customer goes like this-
Shopkeeper:
Par aap to woh, purana wala sabun...
Customer:
Leti thi, par wahi safedi mujhe kam damo mein mile to koi woh kyun le, ye
(nirma) na le!
I
could almost imagine my self as the shopkeeper and my mother as the customer
who discovered the merits of converting to Patanjali.
Now,
how do you beat an argument like that? The brand manager in me would retort
with “but where is the aspiration in this brand? Brand should stand for
something- look at Lux, Pantene, Dove – apart from the functional benefits,
they provide carefully crafted emotional benefits as well.”
I
am embarrassed to confess that I actually tried having a conversation like this
with my mom and to my utter surprise she succinctly articulated the ‘brand
promise’ of Patanjali in her own words “All these multinational brands are full
of chemicals, but Patanjali products are made of natural ingredients and age
old ayurvedic recipes. Its marketers like you, who make glamorous ads to sell
us that expensive ‘branded’ junk”.
Like
questioning my professional dignity wasn’t enough, she added “Actually it is
brands like Patanjali that need marketing. More people should be aware of the
goodness of these products and should benefit from them.” Such adorably naïve
understanding of my profession she has!
This
was not the first time, my parents argued in favour of Baba Ramdev. I remember
(few years before ‘brand’ Patanjali happened), my father virtuously following
Baba Ramdev step by step, every time his yoga session was telecasted on
‘Aastha’ channel.
Mockingly,
I once said, “So, you have also fallen into the trap of Baba?” Like a true
yogi, calm and composed, my dad replied, “He’s not preaching any religion. He’s
preaching yoga and its benefits. From yoga being a lifestyle statement of rich
and famous, he’s made it a household thing; he has made yoga accessible for
everyone. So, what’s wrong in it? Even you should try Pranayam”
I
still remember that wave of mass adoption of yoga, popularized by Baba Ramdev
and embraced by the Indian middle class. To borrow a term from ‘start-up’
language, the ‘scaling up’ of yoga by Baba Ramdev was both unprecedented and
phenomenal. Using the media of TV and mass camps, he made yoga an everyday
ritual for millions of Indians.
A
bit of analysis and you realize that Baba Ramdev has used the same master
skills in scaling up Patanjali as a brand with turnover of around Rs 5000
crores in the previous financial year. What is more interesting and rather
impressive is that he did it in his own way. Almost, defying every principle of
marketing as taught to us in our b-schools.
Unlike
the big brands, which are very measured in everything they do (including their
communication), brand Patanjali has been consistently provocative and rough
around the edges. May be, it is this rawness, these little imperfections, that
far fetched war cry to ‘end the dominance of multinationals’ that makes this
brand endearing to a certain set of people who root for it like its an underdog
that deserves to win.
Interestingly
Patanjali is one of those rare exceptions where the brand adoption travelled
from a small town to a metro and the recommendation travelled from old to
young, parents to children than the reverse, which is generally the norm.
Let
me ask you another question? How many brands can you think of beyond Patanjali-
that under the same name successfully sell everything from staples, to shampoos
to pickles, and may be even apparel in near future
Till
the recent media blitzkrieg (again a great scaling- up tactic), the brand
mostly existed in a hole in wall kind of set ups /distribution centers across
the country. A basic and often un-standardized set up – made the frugality of
the brand quiet evident.
But
no matter how many marketing rules Patanjali has broken, it has always adhered
to one- the trade off between price vs. quality. For its consumers, the
perceived value of a Patanjali product is always greater than the price they
pay.
Out
of curiosity and out of my zeal to prove my parents wrong- I ‘tried’ most of
Patanjali’s products- ghee, soap, shampoo, atta, achar, biscuits (and the list
goes on) and none of the products disappointed me. From a naysayer, I have
lately become an active advocate of Patanjali products, especially to the folks
from my marketing community.
Some
of my marketing friends argue that Patanjali products might not be bad, but the
marketing of this brand is very unsophisticated and rudimentary. Yes, if you
compare it with the global players that the brand is competing with-
Patanjali’s communication might come across as unsophisticated or rather
unglamorous. But that’s exactly what the brand needs. Shouldn’t a brand that’s
positioned as an antithesis of its competition, have communication that’s sets
it apart and contrasts the category narrative?
In
the end, Patanjali the brand is unashamedly earthy and stubborn (on its anti
MNC stance) and in being so, it comes across as unwittingly consistent.
Now
lets get back to the guy, yes the same guy who asked my opinion about
Patanjali. He caught up with me after the session. I definitely owed him an
explanation, so this is what I told him “Patanjali is probably the only brand
that I loved to hate and now I hate to love. Hence, Respect.”