Nawabs, Nudes, Noodles
Page 6
Come 2010, the depiction of old age in Indian advertising has taken yet another step forward.
Here is an ad for another insurance brand, Max New York Life, showing the changing paradigm of old age in India. This old man is packing his travel suitcase. The old lady, his wife, is busy preparing a meal. She quizzes him about his packing, ‘Ab kidhar jaa rahe ho? Abhi to wapas aye?’ (Where are you going now? You just came back!). The old man replies that he has an important wedding to attend in Kolkata. She asks, ‘Kiski shaadi?’ (Whose wedding?). To which the old man replies, ‘Arre, Deepak ko jaante ho na, mera morning-walking friend. Uski sister ki poti ka shaadi hai. Main kaise mana kar sakta hoon? Sirf paanch din.’ (You know Deepak, my morning walking friend? His sister’s granddaughter is getting married. How can I say no to Deepak! So I am going, just for five days!).
The old man, obviously retired, has become an inveterate traveller. Thanks to the wise insurance or investment plans he had made when he was younger. The lady, probably used to his multiple trips, does her usual, ‘Tsk, tsk’ and continues shelling peas.
In yet another ad, this time by HDFC Standard Life, the retired old man, after teasing his wife about her cooking and cleaning skills since they could not pay for multiple maids now, finally tells her that they were going on a holiday to Singapore.
How come, you may ask, advertising has moved from depicting a life of ‘pills and potions’ for the old in India, to showing them as carefree folks, buying expensive gifts for each other and making a trip at the drop of a hat, or a card?
Advertising, as always, is playing up a stereotype to tell a story. I am sure both the brands advertised were not aiming at over-sixty men and women. The ads are probably aimed at men and women in their late or mid-30s. But instead of presenting a doomsday prophesy of ‘if you don’t plan for the future, you will live a life of misery’, they are trying the approach of presenting a good life thanks to wise financial planning.
More importantly, advertising of multiple products have moved away from showing old age as a time of worry, to showing it as a time of relaxation and maybe even a bit of fun.
So, has old age in India really changed?
Fifty years ago, it was the norm in most Indian families that cousins and nephews who are in need should be looked after by the extended family. So in many homes, including my own, we have had my grandfather’s or grandmother’s elderly cousins staying with us for years. That has now changed, but as Professors Sudhir and Katharina Kakar observe, while there has certainly been a contraction of family obligations, they have not disappeared; one may not feel obliged to look after a distant aunt, but there is no question of not looking after the emotional, social and financial needs of an aged parent1. I wonder how long this will last, and fortunately, there is yet another countermovement helping the aged.
There has been a significant change in the economic status of a large number of middle-class Indians thanks to increasing salaries/pensions/savings of the employee class and the growing income of the business class. So instead of depending on their son or daughter to support them in their old age, many old couples are almost fully self-sufficient in managing their household affairs.
Secondly, there has been a significant increase in life expectancy over the last forty years. From around the fifty-year average that existed four decades ago, life expectancy across India, both urban and rural, has now jumped to over sixty-five. From 63.9 for males and 66.1 years for females in 2001-15, life expectancy is predicted to increase to 69.8 for males and 72.3 for females by the year 2021-25. If we were to look at urban middle-class India, life expectancy is now over seventy years. So the men of India have a full fifteen years to live after they technically retire, i.e., if they retire at sixty.
Thirdly, there is a growing sense that in old age you can have fun too. Research studies are showing, at least among the urban digitally literate old folks, there is a growing sense of not living a life of ‘pills and potions’.
Economic Times, in its 8 August 2012 issue, reports that by 2013, India will have a population of 100 million in the age group of sixty-plus. In a country of 1.2 billion, with almost half the population below the age of twenty-five, 100 million, though small, is still a sizeable number – this is almost one-third the entire population of US and almost 40 million more than that of UK. Quoting an international study, the report says that while Indians seem quite old school in some aspects and are not yet ready to go under the knife for surgical procedures, however, they are willing to do ‘anything and everything to stay youthful and younger’ – approximately 33 per cent as compared to foreigners at 23 per cent2.
Shiv Visvanathan, an eminent social scientist, observes that while catering to the aging consumer, brands have to be conscious that ‘brand justice’ is more important than ‘brand equity’. He suggests that marketers need to figure out a way of targeting the aged consumer without explicitly denigrating them.
When Pfizer was getting ready to launch their impotency drug Viagra or sildenafil citrate, they realized that the topic was taboo and would provoke intense debate if the drug was presented as a cure for impotency. Which old man would admit he was impotent, went the argument. So the business and markeing strategist decided to work on what may have been termed the ‘social justice’ angle of presenting the problem. Since impotency was seen as an almost terminal disease that could not be cured, was there a way of repositioning it by a change in terminology?
A few years before Viagra was launched, the company started seeding media about a new problem facing American men, it was termed ‘Erectile Dysfunction’ or ED. I came across an article on ED in Fortune magazine a year or so before the official launch of Viagra. The company had managed to create a new disease which had an acronym that could be remembered by the lay consumer instead of the derogatory term in use till then, ‘impotence’. When the drug, and the brand Viagra, was finally launched, it found ready acceptance and went on to become a billion dollar seller that created a whole new industry. Even US Presidential contender Bob Dole appeared in a television commercial for Viagra. Unlike in India, where prescription-only brands are not allowed to be advertised on television and print media, in the US, even politicians are game for starring in television commercials.
Viagra was not solving a life-threatening problem of old age like drugs for hypertension or cholesterol, cancer or osteoporosis. Viagra, launched in 1998, created a whole new class of drugs for ED and there are at least five big brands that offer this benefit to old men.
Viagra has had its share of abuse as well; it is taken by drug users to add to the effect of intoxicating drugs like ecstacy to reach an even higher level of tripping called ‘sextacy’3. Yet another study found that adding 1 per cent solution of sildenafil citrate to the water in a vase makes the flowers stand erect for up to a week beyond their normal life span.
If Pfizer managed to take the stigma out of impotency by rebranding it as a clinical condition called ED, yet another industry managed to transform a closet product into a high-fashion accessory for the young and the old. Till two decades ago, hair dyes were used behind closed doors in India. With the opening up of the economy, global majors like L’Oreal realized what a potential market a country of 1 billion-plus people could be. They managed to give this product a new name; the poor old hair dye was reborn as hair colour. In addition to the many shades of black, the marketers also offered a wide variety of colours to attract the young. To help spread the hair colour culture, the company systematically trained hairdressers, both male and female, on hair colouring techniques. They even instituted awards to celebrate the most innovative hair stylist – again a rebranding of the plain old hairdresser.
The attitudinal shift, from ‘I will suffer in silence’ to ‘I will fight old age as much as I can’ is taking hold of the elderly Indian populace, at least in the bigger cities.
In yet another demographic shift, we are seeing a growing number of elderly, affluent empty nesters – empty nest is a demographic t
erm to describe the status of a couple whose children have moved out – with their children comfortably ensconced in the luxuries of the West. In cities like Coimbatore, there are old-age gated communities rapidly filling up with these elderly couples. Economic Times in its Big Story (31 May - 6 June, 2015) speaks of how India’s affluent middle class that’s hurtling towards retirement faster than the previous generation is doing it in style by creating something that they can retire to. Speaking with my friend Ganapathy Subramanian, who was quoted in that article, I discovered that he plans to shift to a villa in Anandam, a senior citizen residential project by Aamoksh in Kodaikanal by 2016, write a book, teach and do some social work. As he says in the article, ‘We wanted to travel and get rid of household chores. Anandam senior home was a good option.’ Many more such communities are coming up fast and I would like to predict that the taboo attached to old age homes may not survive this generation. In cities like Mumbai, specialist services are being offered to such affluent NRI empty nesters. A doctor in our area, Prabhadevi in Mumbai, has offered a special NRI Parents Services Package. This package includes a weekly visit and health check up of the parents of the NRIs.
No wonder there has been a spate of products and services aimed at the affluent aged, from tourism packages to super luxury bikes and more.
My friend Balu and his wife, Sita, who live in Bay Area California decided to take an Alaskan cruise a few years ago. He opted for a cruise meant for slightly older travellers. When he had enquired about it, he was told that the cruise was not tiring and the average age in his cruise would be around sixty. Finally, when he boarded the ship, he discovered he, at the age of fifty-five, was by far the youngest, and he suspected that the average age of the cruise travellers was well over seventy.
The Economist, in an article dated 27 June 2015, spoke about the global boom for cruise holidays. Over 22 million took cruise holidays in 2014 with the fastest growing segment coming from Asia. The article also amusingly observed that from catering to just the ‘newly-weds, over-feds and almost-deads’, they are widening the net to get many other segments of travellers as well4.
In India, we have had, for decades, the aged going on pilgrimages by bus. That is set to change in the coming years with the addition of luxury trips and cruises, rather than just bus journeys.
Juxtaposing the grandparent with the grandchild is an evergreen area for brands. Recently, we have seen new interpretations of this old plot. Airtel ran a television spot in 2000s showing a grandkid reuniting his estranged father with his grandfather. Google got a granddaughter to locate her grandfather’s long-lost friend in Pakistan by using the search engine, literally searching for the friend. Another tear-jerker was run by the Times of India where the grandfather who was denied his slot in the Indian hockey team celebrates his grandson’s success.
The affluent elderly has been a demographic that has been tapped by marketers in developed nations for over two decades. The Economist, in its article dated 5 August 2002 on marketing to the aged, quotes SeniorAgency International, a consulting company specializing in this field, to say that the over-fifty own three-quarters of all financial assets and over half the discretionary spending in the developed markets5. This is probably true of India as well.
To open your eyes to the ways elderly can be marketed to, let me end with another story from FCB Ulka’s archives. We were approached by a large company specializing in knee replacement to do a television campaign with the full support of the Orthopaedic Association to popularize knee replacement surgery. The company was dismayed that as against the broad demographic trends we examined above, the number of knee replacement surgeries were not growing fast enough. They felt that a burst of TV advertising, without any brand mention could create a generic demand for knee replacement surgery and become a tipping point. Our team worked out a script that showed a family, kids, parents and an aged grandmother waiting to board a train. The grandmother is seated and as the train pulls into the station, she seems unable to get up from her seat. Research had shown that the biggest difficulty people with knee problem have is in getting up once they have been sitting for a long time. The grandkid comes running back, calling his Dadi to get up, and she says, ‘You carry on, I can’t go on’. At this juncture, her son too gets off the train and says that this cannot continue and they have to meet a specialist. The ad then asks the viewers to SMS ‘Knee’ to know more about Knee Replacement Surgery. The ad ends with the kid and his grandmother walking up a little hill, obviously the knee is now working fine.
The team at the agency had identified a veteran Marathi actress, Sulabha Deshpande, to play the role of the grandmother. When they met her to explain the script, they were delighted to find that she had already undergone knee replacement surgery on both her knees! So in this case, we truly had an aged consumer playing the real-life role.
Twacha Se Meri Umar Ka Pata Hi Nahi Chalta
WE HAD A crisis at hand. Our agency had done a great job on the soap brand Santoor after winning the account in 1988-89. The brand that had been launched as a sandal and turmeric soap had been repositioned as a skincare soap with a strong promise of ‘Younger Looking Skin’. The films showed how the Santoor woman was mistaken to be very young till her daughter breaks the mirage by calling out ‘Mummy’. The first few films showed her in a bookshop, at a wedding, in a bangle shop and then again at a wedding. The brand sales had responded very well to the new advertising that was clearly benefit-focused as against the advertising that was used in 1986-88 which was ingredient focused. Sales kept growing at a rapid pace right through 1989-1993. But then the brand hit a wall. Enter 1994, the brand growth had slowed to zero. What should the brand do?
One school of thought said that the advertising had to undergo major overhaul: the younger-looking skin promise is no longer valid; the ‘Mummy’ gimmick has run its course, etc. The other school of thought said that the promise and the ‘Mummy’ were all fine; we just had to relook at the way the stories were presented.
Indian women had started changing, if not in their day-to-day lives, at least in their desires and dreams. Our advertising was still shackled in the ’80s thinking, went one argument. What if the Santoor woman started doing something that was different and in tune with the times? The copywriter at the agency wrote a script that showed the Santoor woman in an aerobics class and she is mistaken by one of her fellow participants to be a college student till the ‘Mummy’ happens. There were heated debates around this script. Will the middle-class woman understand the story? Will it alienate the core users of Santoor who were in love with its traditional ingredients? Will the story be credible?
The film was tested in the smaller towns of the core markets of Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka. To our delight, consumers gave a double thumbs up to the story. The film was made in 1994 and went on air in December that year. The brand sales once again started responding to advertising.
What were we doing wrong earlier? What did we do right this time?
Quite simply, we managed to capture the mood of the middle-class woman of the ’90s and present it in a story that she could empathize with. No, millions of women were not going to aerobics classes, but they desired to look fit and young.
Santoor advertising right through the ’90s, 2000s and 2010s has tried to reflect the mood of the changing Indian woman.
From being a pretty doll in a wedding admired by old ladies, the Santoor woman has gone on to learn aerobics, hula-hoop, play cricket, become a dress designer, fashion photographer, choreographer, television anchor and more. The promise of younger-looking skin has remained, so has the ‘Mummy’ gimmick. The brand has continued to grow and become the second largest soap brand in South/West India and the third largest soap brand in India, as we enter 2016.
AG Krishnamurthy, founder of Mudra, had this to say about the long-running Santoor campaign: ‘When I do come across advertising like the Santoor campaign which stands out with grace over a long period of time, I think it deserves a round of applause
. It is a very simple thought. It appeals to every human’s desire to keep looking young … it is special because with every new release they manage to add freshness and newness to the same old thought. I am sure that this courage to stay on the same course must be a collaborative effort of both client and agency’1.
If Santoor managed to capture the changing Indian woman’s aspirations, so have a few other brands.
Fair & Lovely from Hindustan Unilever had been launched in the mid-’80s as a fairness cream, and the promise was that a fair girl will attract a better husband. The early films even had the classic boy-meet-girl situations played out in millions of homes across India. This brand too decided that the format had run its course and now should start reflecting the changing aspirations of young women. Here is how they broke the shackles of marriage.
The father is upset that the family income is low because he has a daughter and not a son. Just then the daughter comes home from presumably yet another unsuccessful interview. She hears her father and is upset. She looks up the classifieds again where she chances upon an ad for an airhostess. She laments her dark complexion which she thinks will not let her land the job. Then she hears the ad for Fair and Lovely on television. The girl uses the brand and while the brand message is heard, she turns a few shades fairer. She lands the lucrative job. To celebrate the win she takes her parents for a cup of coffee to a five-star hotel. The father is thrilled and asks her if he can have a cup of coffee, addressing her as ‘beta’ meaning ‘son’. In some ways, this film that went on air in early 2000s changed the fortunes of this large successful brand. A product that ‘got you fair to get married’, became a brand that ‘got you fair to get a job’. While there have been critics like Mouthshut.com who say that the ad is gender insensitive, the brand was reflecting a societal truth and cannot be blamed for that. In a sense, it helped move the debate in the right direction by taking the focus away from ‘girls are only meant to get married’ to ‘girls can aspire for a job’. And one has to commend the brand and the agency, Lowe, for taking that stand. Could the film been better without the overt reference to the son? Maybe. But the use of the word, in my opinion, drove a knife into the heart of the society that tends to value a son over a daughter.