How many of these awareness ribbons did you recognize? We got 3, but were surprised the artist who pulled together the graphic above chose to omit Neonatal Alloimmune Thrombocytopenia’s iconic red and gold ribbon.

The red and gold ribbon is, of course, not at all iconic. But ribbons are. In the United States and beyond, the small looped ribbon is widely recognized as a symbol for an altruistic cause. So if we were trying to raise awareness and money for a recondite condition, we’d find a new color combination and start purchasing ribbons with alacrity. That’s what the Komen foundation did, after all. Yellow ribbons had been used for decades in association with the American military, and some AIDS organizations were using rainbow ribbons in the mid 80′s before settling on red in the early 90′s.

When a Brand Should Blend

As loyal readers of this blog know, there’s nothing we love more than originality, so why would we add one more to the sea of ribbons that are already out there? Because it takes time and costs money to start from scratch. Organizations created to address an obscure disease or charity usually don’t have the latter and would prefer not to squander the former. A ribbon is a shortcut that lets people know immediately that you’re up to something noble.

Are you starting a new business or launching a new product without the unlimited resources to cement it in the consciousness of that business or product’s particular public? Consider creating an identity that makes you or your product fit in with the considered set – and makes it easier for potential customers to figure out what you’re offering. There’s a reason most law firms use serif fonts in their logos, and that most tech startups choose quirky, made-up compound words for names.

When a Brand Should Differentiate

On the other hand, some groups are working to galvanize diabetes groups around a blue circle. Diabetes is a well-known and well-understood disease. It affects a large (and growing) number of people. A number of very large organizations all over the world are making long-term efforts to combat the disease, and if they aligned their efforts they would have a good chance of creating the kind of awareness that would put the blue circle on par with the yellow, pink and red ribbons.

Are you starting a new business or launching a new product with a war chest set aside for promotion? If that’s the case, it’a time to bring in the right-brained, lateral thinkers and try to create the next Ally, Accenture or jetBlue.

Of course, we’re oversimplifying things. You can create a safe identity, but use other aspects of your brand, marketing and promotions to help you stand out. It is possible to create something new, spend next to nothing and still see it become a household name. Let’s just hope it’s not because you inadvertently sparked a political firestorm.

*For those of you who must know how many of the ribbons above you guessed correctly (and who trust Wikipedia) here’s a thorough list.

Their auto clients have not only spanned Ferrari to Hyundai; they’ve ranged from Maserati to Mitsubishi; from Rolls Royce to Ford. They’re moving into electric vehicles. Their non-auto work includes speedboats, commuter trains, perfume bottles and luxury hotels. (photos of some of their work below)

How do they pull it off successfully?

1. A Rock-Solid Foundation. If Pininfarina had only designed one or two luxury vehicles and then moved into other segments and industries, the brand would have been relegated to mediocrity long ago. They haven’t and it hasn’t. Pininfarina has designed almost every Ferrari of the last 60 years, creating an extremely strong base from which to grow their brand. It’s the same reason Missoni can sell at Target and sell a jacket for $5,500 a few weeks later.
2. Confidence in their Customers. Pininfarina can trust that virtually every one of their prospects (corporate buyers – not consumers) knows their body of work intimately. That’s why they don’t have to splash Ferrari all over the home page; that’s why they have been happy to work (in moderation) with non-luxury/non-performance/non-automotive brands.
3. Knowledge of Self. While Pininfarina’s business depends on auto work, they do not define themselves as car designers – they define themselves as designers. Their mission is not merely to design cars  - it is to create and innovate with style.

Are Pininfarina perfect? Of course not. They’ve just announced the closure of their auto production operations, they’ve sold their majority stake in their eight-year-old JV with Volvo and their stock is close to de-listing territory. The assertions above are our educated professional opinions, but there is the chance that their brand-building success could just be dumb luck.

Despite the inner volatility, the brand it projects to the outside world remains sleek and desirable. It is, after all, Italian. Anything else would be off-brand.

Ooooh	Aaaaaaah
Niiiiice	Sweeeet
Siiiiigh	Swoooon
Looooove	Must...Have...

First let us concede that we think the piece is quite beautifully designed – particularly given the circa-1983 aesthetics of the Spanish Lottery’s corporate identity.

Next, forgive us our elementary Catalan and allow us to offer a translation of the ad:

CONFIDENCE, PROFITABILITY AND STABILITY. A 250-YEAR TRACK RECORD.

Very soon you will be able to invest in the National Lottery.

If one thing’s for certain, it’s that people will never stop dreaming.

*We didn’t bother with the fine print, but we wonder if it includes the usual disclaimers about the value of stocks moving up and down?

The copy’s so compelling that it even holds up in English, and we love to dream as much as the next gal or guy. But if you deconstruct it just a little bit, isn’t it basically encouraging financial speculation on an addictive habit? After all, statistically speaking, YOU WILL NEVER WIN the lottery. And if we’ve learned nothing else from the last few years it’s that stocks are far from a sure path to riches–even if you’re talking in 20-year terms.

Okay, okay, we don’t mean to moralize too much. We’ve been known to buy the occasional ticket and scratch card. But something about the retail advertising of equities doesn’t feel quite right, and in support of a business that depends on what is, in some instances, a regressive tax? That’s not work we dream about doing.

Kumon is of course “world’s largest after-school math and reading enrichment program” having served over 16 million children as young as three (Junior Kumon — hooray!) to the threshold of university. No free-spirited, everyone wins a trophy, math-and-reading-are-fun ethos in this logo (although as one commenter has noted below, the kids in Kumon do evidently receive trophies).  Working against the illusory superiority that carries many of us blithely along concerning the putative processing prowess and bright futures that await our precious progeny, Kumon’s logo throws a cold glass of water in our face to say, “your Johnnie, Jill or Joachim is not that smart.  And by the way, you’re already way behind.  SO WIPE THAT GRIN OFF YOUR FACE AND GET TO WORK!” With four simple pen strokes, Kumon communicates just what it intends:  this is going to be grim, and yes . . . your child’s face will look like the logo, but she or he will learn to subtract!  As one former Kumon instructor describes it, “The words that come to my mind to describe the Kumon math curriculum are “stark” and “barren”, [sic] possibly even “mind-numbing”, [sic] for the the elementary grade levels, and downright “mean” in the higher levels. . . . Kumon puts calculus before trigonometry.  But that’s not the reason your child will never reach trigonometry; Kumon is almost certain to weed him out long before calculus. It does this with ridiculously complicated work in polynomial factorization . . . [b]ut speaking from the point of view of someone who loved math and was a physics and math major in college, I found much of it very painful and of very questionable value” [emphasis in the original].

Like many self-styled experts, BrandCultureTalk naturally has never darkened the door of a Kumon Learning Center.  But we have been percipient witnesses to a sufficient number of students executing Kumon worksheets to ascertain that Kumon’s raison d’etre is drilling, drilling and more drilling. Kumon is a system Tiger Mom would love were she to ever consider outsourcing such essential inculcation (which she of course would not).  For parents lacking the backbone/cheerful cruelty of Amy Chua (no performing in school plays, no instruments other than violin or piano, no sleepovers and never, ever a grade less than the top grade in the class), but still hell-bent on Princeton, or Peking University, Kumon provides a reasonable simulacrum of Professor Chua’s intensity. Setting aside the question of whether such hebetudinous repetition wrings out the last iota of intellectual curiosity that could possibly remain among today’s best and brightest after languid afternoons spent playing Cat Physics punctuated by repeated viewings of moronic pablum like Zack and Cody: The Suite Life on Deck, Kumon does appear to be effective at helping kids “compute with lightening speed and robotic accuracy,” even if it is the result of their doing the same worksheet six times in a row.

Cyberspace is awash with testimonials extolling the virtues, life-changing impact and significant limitations of the Kumon approach.  But there is also a fair amount of speculation about the Kumon logo itself, including the apocryphal suggestion by at least one Kumon franchisee that Carolyn Davidson, the graphic designer who invented the Nike Swoosh created the troubled face.

Close, but not quite right.

The storied geniuses at W + K (Nike‘s primary agency since 1982, and the same shop that more recently brought you Isaiah Mustafa and Fabbio as the Old Spice Guys) actually concepted the Thinking Face back in 2001 to reflect the “concentration of studying children.”  Incredibly, the W + K 2008 Worldwide Credentials Book describes the Thinking Face as a “far more approachable and friendly face for KUMON to the consumer,” which really misses the whole point:  Kumon is not your friend — it is your taskmaster.  That’s why parents pay hard currency to send their children to Kumon instead of the arcade.

Some Kumon students have been inspired to create their own versions of the face.  Another commentator suggested that the logo needs to go on Zoloft.

The Zoloft Circle Fellow bears more than a passing resemblance to the Thinking Face — albeit with more hopeful, post-Zoloft dose visage.  Yet taking Zoloft to cheer up would make no sense for the Thinking Face.  According to Kumon, the face doesn’t just represent the [dispirited, bereft, but ultimately resigned and concentrating] child-learner, but the instructors too: “The ‘THINKING FACE’ represents the face of everyone involved in Kumon.” Now that’s brand consistency.  If everybody’s miserable, something useful must be going on.

We’ve noted ad naseum that great brands make tough choices, and in the case of Kumon, the company has boldly eschewed the old canard that children learn best through a combination of visual, auditory, kinesthetic and tactile exploration, and instead should relentlessly drill and memorize.  Embrace or reject the approach, the brand is unequivocal, and unapologetic.  It delivers on its brand promise, however unpleasant that experience may be for all involved.

As for us, we’re going to leave Kumon to the would-be Tiger Moms while we bring our kids on over to Giggles N’ Hugs for some balloon animals and mac n’ cheese.  With such a concerted commitment to excellence, maybe someday they’ll make it all the way to Drake.

Yes, it does.

Airports compete for funds, for planning permissions for business from airlines and sometimes (among hardened road warriors) for business from consumers. The airport is also the first thing someone flying in to a destination experiences about it. An airport’s brand has an impact on its ability to persuade, its ability to compete and even on the destination brand of the city in which it is located. So how will this new airport identity affect the brand of Spain and its cities?

We think it will have a mild but positive effect.

Yes it’s safe, but there’s nothing wrong with avoiding risks when you’re at an airport. Yes it’s got an expiration date, but to today’s mass market, swooshes and gradients are still shorthand for technology and modernity. No, we don’t know exactly what the graphic is meant to represent, but people who see it aren’t going to pay that much attention to it. They’ll see blue: a nice trustworthy color; curves: a smooth visual experience; and digitally-created gradients: something vaguely tech-y.

Actually, we think that the type is the most successful aspect of this system. It isn’t new, but it is friendly, contemporary and accessible – characteristics that not just airports but any major piece of infrastructure could stand to be associated with.

And hey – at least The Brand Union didn’t include a flamenco dancer in the mark.

For reference, here’s Aena’s previous airport logo, which remains the parent company’s corporate identity: