Now with Extra Whitening!

Recently, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized that maybe all the tea, fruits, juices, and other teeth-staining food and drink that I so frequently come in contact with have perhaps taken my chompers a shade or two away from pristine pearly white. Upon this realization, I immediately embarked upon a toothpaste-seeking excursion. Instead of checking the label of my tube-in-use so that I could gauge the whitening power of what my teeth had become accustomed to, I made the proclamation that I needed something new, something different, something that had some "real whitening power" - whatever that means. Perhaps this somewhat rash decision-making process was a side effect of being an American consumer of my age group - a millennial, as we are often called. I noticed a problem and immediately decided that going out and purchasing a different brand, a different type of toothpaste was the solution to that problem. Instead of making use of my current product or even doing a little online research before heading out to the store, I felt compelled to simply go out, shop, and buy. Looking back, I can't help but think that other segments of the market - perhaps older consumers would have taken a different approach. I wanted a change and I wanted it right at that moment - immediate results, immediate improvements. No patience. Whiter teeth, now. Us millennials require instant gratification, after all.



The next thing I knew, I found myself in front of the amazingly full collection that is the Wal-Mart toothpaste selection. It took me about 3 or 4 minutes before I could find my bearings and realize the full breadth of this bountiful harvest of fluoride-induced happiness. I had to tell myself, "Casey, you are here to find whitening power! Focus!"
So I snapped back into concentrated consumer mode. I began examining the different brands and corresponding sparkly boxes. Crest, Colgate, Arm & Hammer, Aquafresh, Pro Health, Fluoride, Anti-cavity, enamel protection. It occurred to me that I may be in this isle for a while.

In a category that would seemingly be commoditized by now, I saw a lot of variety - at least that's how it appeared at first. Most products that I picked up and examined made claims of cavity protection, fluoride content, tartar control, and in a recent trend - many now claim to maintain and/or build upon your enamel. Additionally, almost every single toothpaste - no matter the brand - made some sort of mention of whitening capabilities. Such whitening capabilities were not organized in standardized verbiage within this category - quite the contrary, in fact. I observed so many different ways of stating that "this toothpaste can make your teeth whiter" that I began to assemble a mental ranking of the whitening claims seemed to represent the highest potency.

For the sake of levity, here is a list of the different claims of whitening power that collectively managed to force the expulsion of my mental energy, right there in the toothpaste isle.

***Gentle Whitening

***Whitening

***Multicare Whitening

***Whitening Booster - 2X more whitening agent

***Pro Health Whitening - for visibly whiter teeth

***Polishes for extra whiteness

***Advance White

***Visible White

***Clinically proven to whiten teeth

***Whitening oxygen bubbles

***w/ Extra Whitening

***Max White with Mini Bright Strips



Simply put, I had some thinking to do. Which claims are believable? Is there any real difference in what each brand, each product claims? If one Crest product claims "Extra Whitening" and another Crest toothpaste claims to be "clinically proven to whiten", am I to assume that the one with "Extra Whitening" was not clinically proven? Is Crest holding back the whitening power in some products and consciously going all-out with others? Are the costs of whitening ingredients so high that Crest needs to offer 5-10 different levels of whitening potency? Do any of these whitening claims actually refer to the same amount of whitening power? Is the extra fancy verbiage just a means to "woo" consumers into thinking that they are paying for the best? If there are indeed varying levels of whitening power amongst the various product lines for each brand, who in their right mind would buy the lowest level of whitening - given that all levels of whitening power are all pretty much in the same price range? Is someone out there actually fearful of making their teeth too white? My guess is that most consumers would opt for the highest, strongest whitening power - so long as their teeth would not become too sensitive as a result (but most of these products protect your teeth from over-sensitivity - I think). What about the few toothpastes that do not offer any kind of whitening power? Is there a large customer segment out there that are so used to the candy-like flavor of their standard royal blue toothpaste that they give a collective, "Whitening? No thanks you!" when faced with the choice? The only logical answer I can offer to this question is that maybe customers who avoid whitening do so because they dislike the taste of whitening products or are a bit old fashioned and averse to change. Given the amazing amount of product benefit overlap and confusing verbiage, how is a consumer supposed to make such a tough decision? I will attempt to shed some light on this situation by telling you how I made mine.

After picking up and examining a number of products, reading the claims, and unconsciously forming opinions and ordinal lists for this selection of toothpastes, I began to become a little discouraged. It dawned on me that maybe all of these Crests, Colgates, Aquafresh's were all the same thing - just branded differently. How likely is it that Crest has whitening knowledge and technology that the other brands don't have? I didn't (and still don't) think it's too likely that they hold that type of distinct competitive advantage. Given this minor bout of discomfort, my eyes next focused on the branded offering that seemed like the unique choice - the orange-yellow box - Arm & Hammer. Seeing the nostalgic logo brought a sense of calm to my nerves. Baking soda has been around forever - never changed. It is so versatile and reliable. Their toothpaste would never let me down, would it?



I felt content and relaxed until I came across Arm & Hammer's Peroxicare toothpaste - "with Baking Soda and Peroxide". I had to do a double take. Why is Arm & Hammer making it a point to say that they include baking soda in this product? Don't all Arm & Hammer toothpastes having baking soda in them? Come on, man! What am I supposed to conclude from this?! I suddenly felt alienated from the Arm & Hammer name. Maybe the brand is trying to use the strength of its name without necessarily standing by the whole baking soda tradition, as a minimally required ingredient. Despite this unsettling thought, I targeted Arm & Hammer's Advance White as my best option at this point. This too, was an uneasy choice. Did I want Arm & Hammer Complete Care with Extra Whitening? Or would Arm & Hammer Advance White with Brilliant Sparkle be better? Which one would whiten better? Do I get the "brilliant sparkle" either way? These questions were too difficult for a man of my level of intellect to handle. I moved on.



I found an intriguing product nearby. Arm & Hammer's Whitening Booster was not a toothpaste in itself, but it was a clear agent that you are instructed to add to your usual dab of toothpaste before every brush. It claimed to have twice the whitening agent of your average white strip. I thought to myself, "Whitening Booster, you may be going home with me." This product not only sounded rational and reliable (given the brand), but the purchase of it did not discount the value of any toothpaste already at my home - sunk costs.



I thought that perhaps I was ready for checkout when I stood up and began to walk out of the isle. The glimpse of a top-shelf item caught my eye - Crest 3D White - Advance Vivid Fluoride Anticavity Toothpaste. This seemingly magical little product stood vertically, unlike all of the neanderthal horizontal toothpastes. This little guy seemed sophisticated. A sleek, dark blue box with mystically imprinted white sparkles. I stopped dead in my tracks and took hold of the product for a closer look. I investigated the box to discover something about this product that necessitated an approximate dollar paid per ounce ratio. It stated on the front of the box that it can remove up to 90% of surface stains within 14 days - Plus it protects against future stains. It also made claims of a "patented enamel safe whitening ingredient".

For all I knew, this was all a lot of fluff. I mean, 90% of surface stains? 90% of surface stains for what kind of teeth? Are we talking about a man sporting a nice maple-brown shade in his grill? 90% of stains removed may sound like great results, but the teeth themselves may still be far from what most people would consider white. And the claim to protect against future stains? Isn't that a claim that all toothpastes could make? Isn't the mere act of brushing your teeth in the first place sort of a proactive action against future stains? And what about this 3D talk? Really? I have yet to see a two dimensional bottle of toothpaste in my life, and this one seemed to have just as many dimensions as all the rest. Maybe the people at Crest just ran out of creative names for a premium product? Who knows? I was ready to replace the item on the shelf and be on my merry way - until I spotted an attractive word on the side of this blue box. "Guaranteed". My interest was sparked, so I read the blurb and realized that Crest will refund the purchase price to me if I am unsatisfied with it after use. Would I ever really go through the trouble of asking for a refund on a $4 tube of Crest? Not bloody likely, but the mere fact that they made the guarantee provided me with enough justification to convince myself to spring for the this revolutionary 3D toothpaste.

It was settled. Arm & Hammer's Whitening Booster and my enchanting little Crest 3D White. I couldn't help but think that I had just based my decision process on some very stupid and unfounded logic, but as an American consumer, I got a small rush out of shopping - even if it was just toothpaste. As lame as it sounds, the capability to go out and buy solutions (or at least perceived solutions) to life's little problems was a very empowering feeling. In Rapaille's book, The Culture Code, he states that the American code for shopping is "reconnecting with life". I'm not so sure whether this recent purchase necessarily made me feel more connected with my own life, but I will agree that the experience gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. Sure, I likely wasted about $8 on gimmicky oral hygiene products, but the mere fact that I was free to make my own choices in that isle was enough to justify the purchase and the waste of 20 minutes that went along with it. 'Reconnecting with life' may be a little too emotional of a way to put it, but the experience did remind me how wonderfully free we as consumers are in this country. We can each register a daily vote for our favorite products and services by simply purchasing them. We can each stand by brands for as long or be as brand-fickle as we wish. We as consumers have a lot of power, whether we know it or not - unfortunately a small portion of that power comes from the ability to tell a gimmick from a substantial claim. If anyone has mastered this nuance for the category of toothpaste, give me a call.

7up 100% "natural"...

I personally have not consumed a soda in years. I don't even remember how long it has been. Honestly, I probably last had soda during my years as an undergrad because of the sheer utility it provided as an alcohol mixer. Regardless, I have always been opposed to soda - not because I am on a moral high-horse or because I think I eat/drink healthier than everyone else (because I don't). I have never really enjoyed the caustic feeling of soda flowing down my esophagus. Sure, when soda is watered down a bit and on ice, it goes down easier, but my first impression of the stuff was when I was a boy - and let me tell you, little Casey does not enjoy the throat burn of carbonated sugar water. I apologize for my extreme bias against soda, but I kindly ask that you simply put up with it for the remainder of this blog post.

What got me thinking about soda was the one lone two-liter of 7up in our home. I bought it a few weeks ago because a loved one had a flu and needed it to sooth her stomach. Today, I glanced at the unassuming green bottle and noticed the tag line below the 7up logo. It said, "100% Natural Flavors". Upon reading it, I stopped everything I was doing. Every other thought that had been running through my consciousness had vanished. I had no choice but to grab the bottle and take a gander at the ingredient label. "Ingredients: filtered carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, natural flavors, natural citric acid and natural potassium citrate. For your entertainment, as well as my own, I will focus in on a few of these "natural" ingredients and give my two cents.

First off, high fructose corn syrup is perhaps the most well-known indicator of a highly processed, unnatural food. If the people at the 7up decided to use natural cane sugar, I would give them a little credit, but high fructose corn syrup? In a product you are trying to pass off as "natural"? Are you kidding me? According to an article on ConsumerAffairs.com, "High fructose corn syrup isn't something you could cook up from a bushel of corn in your kitchen, unless you happen to be equipped with centrifuges, hydroclones, ion-exchange columns, and buckets of enzymes." The inclusion of high fructose corn syrup on the ingredient label of a product touted as "natural" is like Brett Favre sporting a pair Abercrombie & Fitch jeans on the sidelines - not only is it against the NFL's strict dress code, but because he is a Wrangler man! Frankly, I am uncomfortable with both scenarios.



Carbonated water. Okay, water is obviously naturally occurring, but I don't see a lot of carbonated water flowing through our lakes, ponds, rivers, and oceans. As I looked a little deeper into what carbonation actually is, I found that while carbonation can occur naturally, it only happens during the process of fermentation. Correct me if I am wrong, but fermentation is not one of the steps to producing 7up - i.e. carbonated water is not "natural".

This is probably my favorite - "natural flavors". What's more "natural" than "natural flavors" you might ask!? The question is so stupid that it doesn't even require a response, but a 7up executive would probably react with a spirited "Nothing is!" In the midst of this marketing campaign, whilst spreading the good gospel about their "natural" soda, wouldn't the 7up marketing team want to be as blatant and transparent as possible about these "natural flavors"? Perhaps ingredients like "Lime juice" or "lemon juice" should appear on the list. Wait, you didn't see those two listed earlier? Don't bother scrolling up to the latter half of the second paragraph. Lime juice and lemon juice are not there. Isn't 7up a lemon-lime flavored drink (you might ask)? Apparently not. If the stuff had lemon or lime juice in there, they would make sure to let you know.

How then, is 7up allowed to make such aggressive usage of the word "natural"? I mean, to you or I, the word refers to something that can be found in nature - or at least something to that effect. Isn't the Food and Drug Administration's definition similar? And why didn't the FDA stop 7up from making these contentions? Well, the FDA has never created a definition for "natural" and even after probing by concerned consumers, the FDA still would not dedicate the resources towards such an (apparently exhausting) effort. In an environment in which such powerful words can be haphazardly thrown around, consumers can be lead to believe anything. As if we all weren't confused enough about the health attributes of our food and drinks, do we really need another mechanism through which we can be swayed towards the purchase of diabetes-linked empty calories? I don't think America needs that right now. Shame on the marketing managers at 7up, and shame on the FDA for not giving a rat's behind.


source: www.gridironexperts.com, www.experiencecurve.com

The Ecolate Filter

In today's class, one of the subjects we discussed was the three reality filters that marketing managers as well as consumers use in the decision making process. For the purposes of a quick review, the three reality filters are: 1.) Literacy (What are the words saying?), 2.) Numeracy (What are the numbers telling us?), and 3.) Ecolacy (What are the consequences of these actions or decisions?). It became very clear, very quickly that we as a culture have vastly neglected the use of our Ecolate (Ecolacy) filter. We have become so driven by the cut-throat competition of our capitalist economy and so blinded by the pressures of cost cutting and constant innovation that we have largely failed to stop and ask ourselves, "What consequences could result from these decisions?"

In reference to the antibiotic example from class, literally and numerically (the first two filters), the use of antibiotics seems like a no-brainer. Bacteria can make us sick. Antibiotics kill bacteria. Period. However, as it was alluded to; there are consequences involved. Not only do antibiotics kill the bad bacteria in our bodies, but the good bacteria (probiotics) are also destroyed. This wouldn't be a deal breaker if probiotics were not vitally important to one's digestive health and overall ability to fight infection and prevent the spread of disease within the body - but they are, in fact, that important.

There are countless examples of how our culture has developed extremely profitable and efficient industries whilst largely neglecting its ecolate filter. The most startling example that comes to my mind is the industrial food and factory farm industries.

The Factory farm industry has had a profound effect not only on the United States, but on the world as a whole. Upon first glance, one may think that industrial farms are a positive force for feeding the hungry and assuring a positive future - a thought process that would likely pass through filters 1 and 2 with little resistance. Upon further review, it would be discovered that such a system actually does far more harm than good. In some developing nations, as industrialized agriculture becomes more widespread, the availability of food within those developing nations actually decreases. How can this be? Well, because industrial farmers produce commodity crops like corn, wheat, and soy to export year after year. These farmers often suffer from mounting debt because of the rising costs of fossil-fuel based inputs, fertilizers, and pesticides that are required to maintain these types of mono-cultures (land that is used season after season for the same type of crop - and thus depletes the natural resources of that land much more quickly). As the prices of such inputs rise, the price these farmers can demand for their commodity crops falls or stays the same, leaving industrial farmers poor, without food, and without nutrient-rich (and thus, valuable) land.

A similarly bleak story can be told for those in impoverished rural and urban areas within the United States – a country in which food is assumed to be in endless supply. The industrialized food industry, driven by profit and efficiency, forces grocery stores outside of low-income areas to maximize profit potential. Because of this, entire communities are left with inadequate sources of nutritious food. As the availability of land on which to grow one’s own food is occupied, residents are forced to settle for foods cheap enough to allow for survival – processed foods riddled with preservatives, additives, and man-made chemicals – a recipe for long-term health issues.

The factory farm industry negatively affects our world by contributing to climate change by way of the emissions from the consumption of non-renewable resources – specifically fossil fuels (not to mention the depletion of the natural nutrients in our soils). The industry as a whole has had a large impact on climate change and global warming, as well as our dependence on foreign oil. According to the Worldwatch Institute, American food travels an average of 1,500 to 2,000 miles from farm to the end-user’s plate. It boggles the mind to attempt to understand the quantities of fossil fuels consumed – not only from the diesel fuel used to power a series of trucks to transport your food across the country, but the resources used to produce the tires for those trucks, the oil for the engines, the energy required to produce the plastic wrap and Styrofoam cases and trays used to package the food, and the energy utilized to power the refrigerated/frozen compartment in each truck. The of energy consuming processes continues, but the point stands strong – although the consumer’s price paid for his or her T-bone steak was $6.99, the overall price paid (by others around the world) is incomprehensibly higher.

In addition to the environmental damage done by the factory farm industry, the negative effect upon public health is also grave. Predating the 1950s, Americans have been confused by exactly what they should and should not eat – and it has only gotten worse over the decades. Every day, American consumers are inundated with innumerable amounts of unhealthy foods and drinks – items produced by large companies that have done their best to minimize process inefficiencies, maximize profits, and to get as many consumers as possible to believe that their products are a perfectly healthful aspect of the American diet. Unfortunately, in the process of reducing the prices of inputs, maximizing shelf life, and designing salty, fatty, and sugary edible substances, the end-products have turned out extremely unhealthful, as a whole. Such products have turned out so unhealthful in fact, that the United States is now in a nationwide battle with both childhood and adult onset diabetes. It has been estimates that 33% of all children born in the year 2000 will develop diabetes at some point in his or her life.

Large corporations have earned their profits in large part, because of the relative ignorance of the American public, regarding precisely what is or is not a healthy choice. Since about six decades ago and the launch of the American Heart Association’s low-fat campaign, consumers have been somewhat manipulated into demonizing fat and opting, instead, for processed breads, pastas, and fat-free snack foods. Coincidentally (or not), Americans have on average gotten no healthier since the launch of this campaign. In fact, Michael Pollan (as well as a number of other sources) have stated the average American in today’s day and age is around 20 pounds heavier than the average American of the 1950s - prior to the fat-free campaign. Whether or not the low-fat campaign was founded upon any substantial scientific data, I do not know. I am fairly certain however, that the beneficiaries of such a campaign have been the producers of snack foods, cereals, breads, pastas, and sugary breakfast treats – all products that can be found in "fat-free form" but cannot claim to be innocent of contributing to the United States' current weight problems.

All companies which produce the foods that I have demonized as being unhealthful will (or have) claim(ed) that their products can be part of a healthy lifestyle, as long as diet and exercise are also accompanying components. While marketing departments make this claim to try and save themselves from being lumped together with the Supersize Me - portrayed McDonalds' of the world, any decently intelligent consumer would see right through such claims. Almost anyone who sticks to a regular exercise plan and limits their daily caloric intake could still eat Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and maintain a decent figure. The point is that in our American culture, we make it incredibly difficult for consumers to even understand what a healthy portion is.

An example that comes to mind is the seemingly conniving serving size of a specific sports drink that I remember laughing at a year or two ago. The campaign was centered around a 5-calorie version of this company's sports drink - an expected response of the popular critique that traditional sports drinks are too caloric and too sugary. This particular product had the number 5 in its name, but when one would look to the nutrition facts, it became clear that if you had really intended to consume a mere 5 calories of sugary goodness, you would have to restain yourself from drinking over half of the bottle. That's right, if you were to drink the entire bottle (a task not viewed as difficult in the least), you would have consumed ten calories - not five. The thought that kept popping into my head was this: instead splitting hairs over a ten calorie drink versus a five calorie drink while risking coming off as dishonest or distrustful, why not just launch the product with the number 10 in the title, rather than 5? Or keep the name as it is, but water down the drink twice as much. It just seemed so funny to me - these companies think that no one actually reads the nutrition facts - but anyone who cares to take a quick glance would see that the serving size was 2 per bottle and thus, the product's name could be considered fraudulent or misleading. In a target market obviously concerned with the nutrition-related attributes of their sports drinks, why would you, as a corporate employee think that consumers would remiss-fully ignore the nutrition facts? I may be out of line here, but honesty can (once in a while) be the best policy...we are after all talking about a difference of five calories. Five calories put into perspective is merely chump change when compared to the average caloric intake represented by the average entree at your favorite sit-down restaurant.

The sports drink example is yet another instance in which executives making decisions about goods and services produced are out of touch with the third and final reality filter. If the ecolate (or ecolacy) filter was respected, then perhaps the consequences of such product launch decisions would have been somehow suspected before the damage was done. Personally, I lost respect for the company that manufactures the aforementioned sports drink. I cannot say, however, whether or not this calorie-splitting decision truly affected them on any kind of large scale. Whether it did or didn't; I maintain the belief that a gathering of small mistakes can be just as (or more) damaging as one large mistake.