presented, although they should all be able to recognize its truth. But the philosophy behind it is never frame it, never put it on the wall.
For Starbucks, the equivalent of Nike’s “Authentic athletic performance” became “Rewarding everyday moments.” No mention of coffee, although the mantra clearly fits with the idea of treating yourself to a coffee, a Frappuccino, a tea, a juice, a muffin, a quiet read or an animated conversation. As a description, it is tight enough to the brand but also baggy enough to allow creative development over time. The mantra works because it taps into the emotional triggers of the brand, the need to reward ourselves in stressful times, to rise above the humdrum, to see the possibility of the extraordinary in the ordinary. When we drink a cup of coffee in Starbucks we are fulfilling a deeper need than the quenching of thirst. As Scott Bedbury put it: “Consciously or not, we seek experiences that make us think, that make us feel, that help us grow, and that enrich our lives in some way.”
The longevity of this approach was brought home to me in October 2003, eight years after The Big Dig. I visited the newly refurbished Hayward Gallery on London’s South Bank to see an art exhibition. Afterward, I went into the new Starbucks located inside the gallery. It’s an elegant little shop, with stylish furniture that sits with the feel of an art gallery, providing “the finest coffee and stimulating art in a space where you can be inspired, connect, escape and enjoy.” And on the chalk board, the following words have been handwritten by the barista: “Starbucks at the Hayward. Art demands time and thought. Good excuse for a muffin.”
* In 2003 Starbucks bought Seattle’s Best Coffee, a smaller local company that flavors its beans. The SBC shops are not adopting the Starbucks brand and will continue selling flavored beans.
* Having just flown to Seattle on United, I can say that the partnership is still working and the coffee is good, although it still tastes better on the ground.
You know when a brand has become an everyday part of our lives. It enters popular consciousness and becomes a reference point that everyone understands and laughs at. In the 1990s, the comedian Janeane Garofalo appeared on a TV comedy show and joked, “They just opened a Starbucks – in my living room.”
Equally you know that a brand has reached a position of confidence about itself when it uses such jokes in its annual general meeting. Investors at the introduction of the 2003 annual report were shown a video with a whole succession of clips about Starbucks, including the following from a spoof news report: “The iceberg is easy to spot because it’s 50 miles long and has three Starbucks.”
From this it seems that Starbucks has come to terms with its own ubiquity. Perhaps it senses that the world has, too. Over the last ten years, life for Starbucks has been a roller-coaster ride, but two particular streams have consistently run through everything. The first is increasing internationalization, which will be dealt with in this chapter. The second, against the background of debates about globalization and a growing distrust of corporate America, is Starbucks’ commitment to communities, which I will cover in the next chapter.
By 1995, Starbucks had emerged as the US speciality roaster that could bring you real coffee in the form of beans to your home or an espresso to your high street. The big coffee merchants had overslept; they simply had not noticed the significance of what was happening. Yet Starbucks was still a North American phenomenon. The company had expanded out of its north-western corner of the US into the major cities and into parts of Canada. It had even opened in New York, despite misgivings and analysts’ doubts about whether the concept was truly portable. Queues outside the shop seemed to indicate that it was. In many ways New York strikes me as a separate country within
For Starbucks, the equivalent of Nike’s “Authentic athletic performance” became “Rewarding everyday moments.” No mention of coffee, although the mantra clearly fits with the idea of treating yourself to a coffee, a Frappuccino, a tea, a juice, a muffin, a quiet read or an animated conversation. As a description, it is tight enough to the brand but also baggy enough to allow creative development over time. The mantra works because it taps into the emotional triggers of the brand, the need to reward ourselves in stressful times, to rise above the humdrum, to see the possibility of the extraordinary in the ordinary. When we drink a cup of coffee in Starbucks we are fulfilling a deeper need than the quenching of thirst. As Scott Bedbury put it: “Consciously or not, we seek experiences that make us think, that make us feel, that help us grow, and that enrich our lives in some way.”
The longevity of this approach was brought home to me in October 2003, eight years after The Big Dig. I visited the newly refurbished Hayward Gallery on London’s South Bank to see an art exhibition. Afterward, I went into the new Starbucks located inside the gallery. It’s an elegant little shop, with stylish furniture that sits with the feel of an art gallery, providing “the finest coffee and stimulating art in a space where you can be inspired, connect, escape and enjoy.” And on the chalk board, the following words have been handwritten by the barista: “Starbucks at the Hayward. Art demands time and thought. Good excuse for a muffin.”
* In 2003 Starbucks bought Seattle’s Best Coffee, a smaller local company that flavors its beans. The SBC shops are not adopting the Starbucks brand and will continue selling flavored beans.
* Having just flown to Seattle on United, I can say that the partnership is still working and the coffee is good, although it still tastes better on the ground.
You know when a brand has become an everyday part of our lives. It enters popular consciousness and becomes a reference point that everyone understands and laughs at. In the 1990s, the comedian Janeane Garofalo appeared on a TV comedy show and joked, “They just opened a Starbucks – in my living room.”
Equally you know that a brand has reached a position of confidence about itself when it uses such jokes in its annual general meeting. Investors at the introduction of the 2003 annual report were shown a video with a whole succession of clips about Starbucks, including the following from a spoof news report: “The iceberg is easy to spot because it’s 50 miles long and has three Starbucks.”
From this it seems that Starbucks has come to terms with its own ubiquity. Perhaps it senses that the world has, too. Over the last ten years, life for Starbucks has been a roller-coaster ride, but two particular streams have consistently run through everything. The first is increasing internationalization, which will be dealt with in this chapter. The second, against the background of debates about globalization and a growing distrust of corporate America, is Starbucks’ commitment to communities, which I will cover in the next chapter.
By 1995, Starbucks had emerged as the US speciality roaster that could bring you real coffee in the form of beans to your home or an espresso to your high street. The big coffee merchants had overslept; they simply had not noticed the significance of what was happening. Yet Starbucks was still a North American phenomenon. The company had expanded out of its north-western corner of the US into the major cities and into parts of Canada. It had even opened in New York, despite misgivings and analysts’ doubts about whether the concept was truly portable. Queues outside the shop seemed to indicate that it was. In many ways New York strikes me as a separate country within
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