You wonder why every car dealer TV ad is followed by an ambulance-chasing lawyer ad … is followed by a car dealer ad … is followed by an ambulance-chasing lawyer ad … is followed by . . . you get the point.
Business categories become commodities when consumers no longer identify a meaningful difference between brands. When that happens, the only difference a brand can create is in advertising. Better advertising than others, or, as in most cases, more advertising.
Just because somebody tells you that a certain business category is a dying business doesn’t mean it’s gonna die today or tomorrow. People were still making money on Blockbuster stores a decade after the announcement of their demise.
Business categories do, indeed, die. Almost always because of advances in science. Nobody’s making steamships any more.
But some categories that start shrinking aren’t necessarily dying. They’re just getting smaller.
It’s gotten quite popular in the last few years to select dirty names for start-up businesses. There’s Dirty Dick’s Crab House, Fat Bastard Burrito, but none tops the new burger joint in Chattanooga.
Its name is Sofa - King - Juicy - Burger. If you say the name real fast, it only takes a couple times to figure out the intent of the owner. Despite, that is, the fact that he says there’s a large sofa in the joint.
There are few devices better than an icon, or mascot, to help build personality and awareness for a brand. And creating a successful icon is not a terribly difficult process. But Burger King managed to screw it up.
As for personal tastes, I have always thought a Burger King hamburger was the best-tasting among fast-foot burgers. But the weird-looking, and weirder-acting, speechless, and spooky king that’s driven Burger King advertising for years is a dud.
Thankfully, new Burger King owners think so, too, because he’s being dethroned.