Bud = Toothpaste

After years of contemplation, I've figured it out. I've finally discerned why it is craft beer is more appealing to me than mass-produced American lagers. And it's so simple, I nearly slapped myself when I came to this striking realization. It's all just a matter of advertising.

Online beer forums are teeming with discussions concerning the latest Budweiser ads, and how they tout the virtues of fresh hops when their beers have barely any noticeable hop character at all. Beer Advocate has a couple of threads going as I write this, all of them heated and enlightening (and only slightly pejorative -- but hey, it's a craft beer site).

We all like to think it -- and if you're reading this blog, I assume it's as true for you as it is for me: "I don't pander to advertising executives who tell me their product will significantly improve my quality of life." Well, maybe that's true, but the sad fact is that advertising, by its very nature, leaves and impression upon us, for better or worse.

I was reading an article in Fast Company today written by Dan and Chip Heath which discussed the merits of using stories as opposed to slogans in advertising campaigns (among other things). Slogans, they argue, are remnants of a bygone era where the American consumer related to catchy jingles and internalized them to the point where they were incorporated into daily life. By their nature, slogans are meaningless bits of noise designed to stick in a person's brain. Problem is, most Americans are so inundated with little bits of advertorial stickies that there's no room left for anything else.

Stories, on the other hand, make a product seem more appealing by striking an emotional chord in the consumer. So when I see a commercial about the history of Sam Adams, looking at photos of Jim Koch hauling cases of beer on a dolly into an establishment himself, I smile. When I see the look in his eyes as he discusses the soil conditions on a farm in Germany where he gets his hops, I nod. I, too, have a passion for beer as fervent as Mr. Koch's, have plunged my whole head Scarface-style into a mound of hops and inhaled, have chewed on raw malted barley to ascertain its particular contribution to a beer. I get Sam Adams.

Budweiser has released a series of ads touting the beer's "drinkability," which they admit is a nebulous term. Bud has a history of creating cheesy slogans: "This Bud's for you," "Real Men of Genius" and "The king of beers" stand out in my mind. And every time I hear them, I can't help but think of of the myriad toothpaste commercials I've seen which all promise whiter, healthier teeth by means of some lame slogan or other. Four out of Five Dentists Recommend OUR Toothpaste, they say. Well hell, four out of five dentists recommend ANY toothpaste, I'll bet. Four out of five beer drinkers will tell you that THEIR beer has "drinkability," regardless of what brand it is. Four out of five will tell you that THEIR brand is the true "king of beers," otherwise they wouldn't buy it.

You don't see craft breweries with silly little slogans like that. Sure, Sam Adams has "Take pride in your beer," but that's not the central focus of their ads -- it's the story. Dogfish Head makes "off-centered ales for off-centered people," but the real story is the innovation behind the brand. I don't think I've ever seen a slogan on a bottle of Sierra Nevada, or Anchor, or Harpoon.

Point is, craft beer doesn't come off as cheap. Their advertising executives (if the breweries are big enough to have them) don't spend their days hawking up one-liners. They tell stories. And there are lots of stories to tell. I'm sure Budweiser has its share of heart-warming tales, as well, but to date I haven't seen any. Then again, at this point I think a story-centric Budweiser ad would just come off as Bud pandering to a sentimental demographic. Still, telling the story is a much better approach to selling Bud as a "high-quality product" than taking out ads saying what great hops they have.

So that's it: it's all about the story. You get stories from brewery owners all the time, talking about their humble origins homebrewing in their garages and gutting some old shoe factory in the middle of nowhere to build their own little brewing empire. You get stories from consumers who travel hundreds of miles in an annual journey to Mecca and drink the beer at an obscure little brewpub in the far northern region of New England. You see award-winning brewmasters driving delivery trucks on non-brewing days. And then, when you take that first sip of that special brew and it dawns on you that you can actually taste the story behind it?

That, my friends, is something special.