As our loyal readers know, we have campaigned vigorously and consistently for nearly three years now in favor of creating beer advertising built on solid, product-distinctiveness strategy. Over that time, we've been gratified to see first Budweiser, and then more recently, Heineken replace empty entertainment-based advertising with campaigns that emphasize each brand's very distinctive features. It's a recipe for advertising success because, unlike mindless entertainment, product distinctiveness sells beer.

But, you may ask, how long can a brand stick with such a strategy? Won't beer drinkers become bored with getting the same strategic message? "People already know all that!" is what one Coors marketing executive screamed 25 years ago after reviewing ads continuing to celebrate the brewery's location and water. He demanded more entertaining ads. A short time later, he was ushered out of the brewery.

The Coors experience

Marketing people came and went, but Coors remained the poster child for consistent brand positioning. No other beer brand can match its record. From before the brewery first began major-media advertising in the 1970s, and continuing to this day with but a few off-strategy excursions along the way, Coors beer has been sold on the basis of its distinctive product features. 

In Coors' earliest days, Pure Rocky Mountain Spring Water--abbreviated "PRMSW" in the company's marketing offices --was the linchpin selling message. Bar signs and print ads married that headline to the beauty of the Golden, Colorado Rocky Mountain home of the brewery. Popular promotional ceramic ash trays (still selling on eBay) featured the PRMSW headline. And of course, the same line appeared prominently on the iconic label right beneath the rabbit-shaped waterfall.

Focus, focus, focus

Years later, when Coors began to expand outside its original 10-state distribution footprint, it also began to advertise on television, a decision reached only reluctantly by the tradition-minded Coors family. Entertainment-based ads, so popular among beer brands at the time, were rejected out of hand by the stoic brewery owners. Coors would go against convention and use its new medium to talk about how its beer was different.

A decade passed and a new ad agency--no doubt correctly reading the wishes of the brewery's outspoken owners--continued to focus on the beer. Celebrity spokesman Mark Harmon delivered what for the beer business at that time was revolutionary. No jingle, no pretty girls, no exotic locations, Harmon instead offered a straightforward, look-'em-in-the-eye, understated, talk-about-the-beer presentation. It was breakthrough advertising for the category back then.

The Eighties saw Mark Harmon move on to other pursuits. More and more beer brands turned to entertainment-based ads with the likes of Spuds Mackenzie and his party-loving, bikini-clad girlfriends. Aiming to continue its focus on its product distinctiveness, Coors turned to a new spokesman by the name of... Coors. But the message Pete Coors delivered remained largely unchanged. (Full disclosure: This author also wrote the scripts for dozens of these ads over a period of ten years.) The biggest change resulted from a successful Anheuser-Busch legal challenge to the "spring water" claim. Because Coor's legendary water did not spring forth from underground but was pumped up, that part of the claim died. But Rocky Mountain water maintained its starring role...

Which brings us to today and new ads from Coors Banquet based on the same product-distinctiveness story. New look; same message, for going on 50 years now...

Why isn't consistent focus on distinctiveness the norm?

Comparing Coors' consistent focus on product distinctiveness to so many other beer brands' (including some others in the Coors stable) stumbling from one direction to the next begs a question: Who's to blame?

Most responsible: Senior client leadership who should champion the power of product distinctiveness and lead the effort to identify the most potent aspects of each beer brand, instead often choose to simply demand "a breakthrough advertising idea." It abrogates their responsibility and shifts it to others. Worst of all (as Bud Light continues to demonstrate) it just doesn't sell beer.

Somewhat responsible: Too many young brand managers are looking to "leave their mark" on the brand during their relatively short tenures. They see staying with an idea someone else developed as less attractive than moving on to something new, something with their name on it. It's about putting what looks impressive on their resumés ahead of what's best for the brand.

Enabling: As we've often said, most ad guys favor advertising that's long on entertainment and bereft of product facts. Ad agency creative people want to put their mark on the brand, too. No matter what they say, way too many favor advertising that brings attention... on themselves and the ad agency. 

What're the odds all these folks could make the wrong move at the same time? 

Way higher than they should be.

The video below is just in from the Coors Light marketing brain trust.

​Take a look, and then take our short quiz...

Real advertising tells viewers some salient fact about the brand. There is no product fact here, only a quick logo visual (no audio mention), and a couple of seconds showing bottles of beer, many of which could easily be Bud Light since the stage lighting is so poor.

Real advertising connects the brand to viewers' lives. The "connection" here to the recently unveiled "Climb on" Coors Light tagline is so thin as to be virtually non-existent. 

Real advertising, if it employs entertainment, story-telling, humor and other artistic constructs, uses them to dramatize a product selling point. There is no selling point for Coors Light here. None.

​It's "branded content!"

If Adweek were being awarded points for accurate reporting, they'd have called this their "non-ad of the day." See, this is what today's marketing hipsters call "branded content" to differentiate it from what they see as old-fashioned advertising. You know, the kind that actually sells stuff. But "content" like this with next to no branding and absolutely no selling is pointless, wasteful, and insipid. 

Still, the new-age Mad Men would have you believe that slapping a logo on some bit of independent-film-style video that might be seen by a few thousand Instagram or Facebook viewers has real marketing value. "We need to own the digital space," they hawk. What they don't tell their clients, is that the value in this accrues to the hipsters at ad agencies who make these little films (and most certainly enter them in self-serving awards competitions). When they're supposed to be selling beer, they're playing Hollywood. Insecure clients, fearing they'll be seen as un-hip, acquiesce.

Where's the harm, you ask?

The waste of at least a million dollars and who-knows-how-many hours of staff time that should have been spent driving Coors Light sales is a crime. Telling beer distributors this nonsense is in their interest is a lie. And patting yourself on the back for being avant-garde when you're supposed to be a grownup selling beer, is childish.

​Here's some HeyBeerDan branded content: If you're a child in marketing, you really are a babe in the woods.