back in the ussr? we never left! - wordpress.com and consumerism that already existed in the ......
TRANSCRIPT
Russia has never opened itself easily. Much like a straw appears to bend in a glass of
water, our image of Russia has been distorted, obscured, and shielded since the Revolution of
1917. It was not too long ago that we waged a war on our own people through McCarthyism, to
prevent Russian infiltration. Yet, the United States and Russia, despite their mutual concealment,
have always maintained important ties, both as enemies, and as friends. Now, a year into Putin’s
third term, it is clear that Russia is changing. In a national interest report, Graham Allison and
colleagues explain why we should care about Russia today. They cite that, “Russia’s
membership in the G8 and the G20 gives it a seat at the table for the most important financial
and economic meetings and deliberations” (Allison. et. al, 10). Therefore, this nation in the
shadows is affecting the global fiscal climate and, in turn, the United States. Moreover, due to a
somewhat sustained demand for commodities such as oil and natural gas, Russia’s economy has
had continued growth since 1998 (“Russia”). But all of this is just the bigger picture of Russia,
and within that large of a frame it would be impossible to truly understand the country
intimately. In the past we have continuously taken a top-down approach to understanding the
Russian psyche and the Russian people. However, I would like to move the opposite way. In
order to answer the question, “who is Russia?” my study focuses on peering at Russia through a
different lens. This lens, of course still distorts the truth, but yet instead of peering from the side
of the glass, I will look through the bottom. Even if we can never see a clear image of Russia, I
at least want to make an effort to examine the funhouse reflection of modern Russian advertising.
Through the use of advertising as a mirror upon Russian culture, we can understand that modern
Russian advertising contains facets of the essence of Russia, and in combination can illuminate
the identity of the nation.
History of Advertising in Russia
It is essential to understand that advertising in Russia is by no means a new institution. In
her comprehensive study, English and Emerging Advertising in Russia, Maria Ustinova provides
an overview on Russian advertising before Perestroika. She mentioned how the first advertising
organization opened in Moscow in 1878, but after the Russian Revolution in 1917, private
business was severely curtailed, and along with it, so was advertising (Ustinova, 267). Ustinova
summarizes that, “the [Soviet] advertising plan was executed by four advertising agencies:
‘‘Soyuztorgreklama’’ (national agency), ‘‘Rostorgreklama’’ (the Russian republic agency),
‘‘Uktorgreklama’’ (the Ukraine republic agency), and ‘‘Vneshtorgreklama’’ which produced
advertisements in foreign languages for foreign-trade organizations” (Ustinova, 267). With these
for branches there was not need or room for advertising towards the consumer. All modes of
consumption and production were state owned. While it is important to note that one of the first,
if not the first, American product shown in the Soviet Union was Pepsi Cola in 1959 (PepsiCo),
most multinationals came to Russia in the 1990’s (Ciochetto, 41).
After several decades of advertising only including political propaganda and state brands,
Mikhail Gorbachev’s Perestroika opened the floodgates for advertising from multinational
corporations. The current advertising climate in Russia would not have been possible without
Mikhail Gorbachev’s Perestroika as according to Irina P. Ustinova’s study “English and
Emerging Advertising in Russia,” without the openness of a market economy advertising would
be unnecessary due to the inherent lack of consumer choice in Russia at the time. Goeffrey
Hosking, in his book Russia and the Russians speaks of how Perestroika created a general easing
for the infiltration of foreign brands, ideas and competition (Hosking, 572). Despite the sudden
newness of capitalism, Russia’s narrative is not one of a traditional emerging market, as even
before 1991, Russians were familiar with Western Culture through movies and television
(Kotkin, 42). In that respect, Russians came into capitalism with a similar background of
skepticism and consumerism that already existed in the capitalist West.
This dichotomy of new wealth and old skepticism, created a difficult market for western
companies to initially penetrate. Ustinova, citing VTSIOM study writes, “The decrease of trust
in advertisements is evident over a few years: 51% of the respondents in 1996, and only 31% in
2000 answered positively to the question whether TV commercials serve as a reliable source of
information about goods and food” (Ustinova, 269). With little understanding of Russian culture
or the target consumer, many companies in the early 90’s, such as Schweppes and Mars,
according to Lynne Ciochetto of the Routledge Studies, “saturated the market with so much
advertising they stimulated a consumer backlash” (Ciochetto, 45). This resulted in shopper
recoil against Snickers, which began to be viewed as an example of a US infiltration of Russia.
Clearly, advertisers had to establish a new approach, one that focused on the particular needs and
cultural eccentricities of the Russian public (ibid.). Advertising companies’ efforts to create a
specifically Russian approach were not in vain. Today, advertising in Russia is a booming,
multinational industry. In 2012 alone, advertising expenditures reached all time highs of $9.24
billion, and are only expected to go up from there, (“Already”). With this increase in advertising
spending, it is clear that the success of international sellers has increased as well. Considering
the success of the specific Russian approach, an examination of advertising can therefore reveal
an equally pointed view of the Russian consumer.
Methodology
My research is not a cumulative effort, but more of a incisive exploration. I will be
qualitatively evaluating a series of case studies, which are modern Russian advertisements. For
each multinational company advertisement, I will compare the advertisement to its American
counterpart from the same company. The comparison is not to use American advertising as a
baseline. Rather, through the comparison, there will be a more concrete and apparent
identification of the specific appeals used by the companies to market towards Russians. I will
use each appeal as an avenue to analyze the reason for its use, and justify it with historical
sources. The advertisements I employed are from different industries and presented by a vast
array of mediums such as billboards or television commercials. My approach is not about
creating a broad image of Russian identity, but is instead an attempt to illuminate small,
particular cultural facets that are still present in the minds of the modern Russian. This method
will show that modern Russian advertisements identify a Russian consumer that while bravely
trudges forth in the newly capitalist society, still clings to elements of an established cultural
past.
Case Study 1: It’s What’s on the Outside that Counts
The infiltration of Western, and particularly American culture featured as a pervasive
obstacle to the continuation of the Socialist dream. Brand names underlined the symbols of both
status within the Soviet society and the freedom without it. In his seminal work on Perestroika,
Armageddon Averted, Stephen Kotkin explains the brand phenomenon in Russia. Kotkin
recounts, “Schoolchildren “ranked” each other by their jeans, with Western brands being the
highest” (Kotkin, 43). Perestroika was a time of openness and of course, greater understanding
of the world outside Russia. Therefore, it does not seem surprising that such knowledge could
create the comparison between what the communist USSR did not have and what the capitalist
USA did. Yet, this basic economic model binary is of the past and Russia can be considered a
now capitalist nation. Modern Russia advertising examples, however, would still present a
reality that places value upon branding in a particularly Russian way—a way tied to the
tumultuous time of Perestroika.
The brand phenomenon of Perestroika can be seen clearly in a recent Starbucks street
campaign, which employs the cultural obsession of brand paraphernalia and acceptance of logo
decoys. This campaign involves the distribution of postcards with Starbucks logos, which can be
then turned into coffee sleeves and placed over non-Starbucks coffee cups, (Figure 2). I have
included an example of the compiled campaign, which includes the advertiser’s explicit
objectives and implementation. Basically, the advertisement tries to convince the consumer to
“upgrade” their coffee for a Starbucks. Objectively, this campaign attempts to raise brand
awareness towards the existence of Starbucks in Russia while simultaneously implanting a sense
of superiority. I will compare the Russian Starbucks advertisement to an American Starbucks
street campaign equivalent in order to specifically identify how the campaign was modified for a
Russian audience (see Figure 1).
In contrast to the Russian advertisement, the premise of the American campaign is that
individuals could bring their disposal coffee cups to trade in for renewable mugs in New York
City. Then, artists used the paper cups to create an image of a Sequoia tree, symbolizing what
could be saved if consumers switched to reusable vessels. Ultimately, the campaign was
documented on Facebook and culminated in participants bringing their mugs to Starbucks on
April 15th, Earth Day. In purpose, the American campaign is very similar to the Russian one.
Both promote the brand by giving away something for free, while superimposing the logo on the
giveaway as a public admission of brand loyalty. Each campaign inadvertently uses the
consumer as the marketer and spreads brand awareness without a necessary purchase, while
simultaneously not seeming like a direct advertisement. Yet, despite the similarities, the
approaches still portray vastly different cultural appeals. The American version focuses on
environmental sustainability and acquiring something tangible in return for the trade. The
sustainability comes from the idea that this campaign is for Earth Day as well as highlighting
waste, which arises from disposable coffee cups, (Figure 1). The Russian campaign also has a
tangible exchange. However, this exchange is based on the idea of brand superiority and a
display of a Starbucks sleeve over a different coffee. The actual tangible gift is no more than a
piece of paper, which serves to advertise Starbucks and change the brand of one’s coffee to, at
least according to the campaign, a more desirable one.
According to this disparity within the same brand’s marketing campaigns towards
different countries, Starbucks sees Americans as willing participants for permanent logo based
goods, but Russians as voluntary consumers of surface level decoys. This compliance of brand
decoys naturally stemmed from a want of luxury during the Soviet Union. After Stalin’s reign,
Russia began to see an influx of Western goods. Of course, this supply was mostly attained
through black-market means, and yet, the fashion trends permeated into mainstream society.
Robert Strayer, in his case study on historical change, Why Did the Soviet Union Collapse, says
that, “in the 1970’s. a growing fascination with western popular culture- blue jeans, T-shirts,
plastic shopping bags with foreign logos…challenged official values,” (Stayer, 68). Here he
mentions a small but interesting phenomenon on Russian fashion—that of the foreign shopping
bag used as reusable accessory. Not only were Russians fascinated by foreign culture through
the consumption of foreign products, but also through anything indirectly related to consumption
of these products. My mother, who lived in the USSR from her birth in 1970 until its collapse,
told me about how she would beg her more affluent friends who had traveled overseas to bring
back shopping bags from foreign stores. All the young girls at the time would carry around these
bags as purses.
The trend of foreign shopping bags as fashion statements cannot be viewed as simply an
eccentricity that can be pushed off like Jelly Shoes or snap bracelets. In her touching memoir,
How We Survived Communism and Even Laughed, Croatian writer Slavenka Drakulic talks
about why she and her friends would collect foreign candy wrappers or labeled packages.
Drakulic writes, “everything foreign was more beautifully designed and, surrounded by poverty,
we were attracted to this other, obviously different world” (Drakulic, 187). Here, Drakulic
establishes the communist mindset during that time, with the idolization of foreign goods and
everything related to them. The trends of packaging holding cultural importance continued into
Perestroika as well. In Soviet Hieroglyphs, a series of essays are presented about facets of
Russian society, one of which is Nancy Condee and Vladimir Padunov’s essay on consumerism
during Perestroika. Condee and Padunov write about how once private business and shops were
established, they changed the quality of their bags to reflect competition and luxury (Condee, et
al., 132). Therefore, it is no surprise that Starbucks would use the Russian people as conduits for
promoting their brand, considering the cultural acceptance of carrying logo packaging.
Currently, the Russian people perhaps are no longer enamored with simply disposable brand
named wrappings. The economy has evolved to the point that the same users who are carrying
fake Starbucks sleeves can afford the real coffee. Still, the notion that Starbucks’ advertising
technique is both acceptable and possible could not be outside the context of a culture where
only 30 years prior these printed sleeve would have been fashion statements.
Case Study 2: Now we can Laugh
This second case study will focus on an established brand attempting to change its image
through the use of Russian humor and nostalgia. In order for these appeals to make sense, it is
first important to lay the context of luxury goods in Russia. During Perestroika and after the fall
of the USSR, the economy was rapidly shifting from state-owned to privatized. Such a shift
presented tumultuous consequences. Most tangibly, rising prices, due to the opportunity of
economic profit, impoverished many citizens and stripped them of buying power. Geoffrey
Hosking, who I mentioned earlier, describes that, “accumulated savings were soon wiped out-
faster than in Germany after the First World War” (Hosking, 598). Therefore, despite the new
economic reforms, luxury goods in Russia were still almost as hard to obtain as during Soviet
power. These factors are important to consider when viewing the following television
commercial of Mars Bars, which connects with the consumer through showing how long Mars
has been in Russia. We see a little girl, in 1990, eating Mars, talking about what she wants in the
future. Things she imagines herself having include: fashionable Lurex jackets, a businessman
husband, and of course unlimited Mars Bars (Figure 4.1). The commercial ends with her
present day self, who is now a successful modern woman. She shakes off her former dreams and
walks away from the memory while still eating a Mars Bar (4.2). The message of the
advertisement is that even when everything changes, Mars is always desirable. In terms of
humor, that advertisement makes fun of the childish aspirations of Russians at the beginning of
Perestroika. Basically, the advertisement says that “now we know better, now we know what
success is, and ‘Mars Bars” are still a part of that.”
The comparative American advertisement I am using is one of M&M candy, also by the
Mars Corporation. Unfortunately, “Mars Bars” are not advertised in the United States and
therefore I had to rely on a different Mars product. This commercial is of a brown M&M
depicted as female, talking to attractive women at a party. The candy piece is portrayed as
intelligent, as she is wearing glasses while speaking about her conversation with a prime
minister. We see cut shots to men watching the conversation and snickering. The women
surrounding the candy explain to her that because she is a brown M&M, the men believe she is
naked. In fact, her coating is just the same color as the chocolate inside of her. Obviously the
M&M becomes indignant at the claim, but then looks over at a male red M&M who walked in.
He sees the brown M&M, also thinks she’s naked, and takes off his red coating, which actually
renders him naked and begins dancing. The advertisement conveys that M&M’s are a fun snack.
However, it also plays on the notion that men are mostly stupid and impulsive creatures, while
women are level-headed and aloof. The humor is vulgar and goofy, appealing to both older
children and American adults alike (Figure 3).
Figure 4.1: Mars Corporation. Russia. 2011. TV
The major difference between these advertisements is the use of humor and national
specificity. The American commercial portrays an awkward but goofy situation, while
simultaneously showing intelligent women and men who are baffoons. The Russian humor is
self-deprecating, with a constant reference back towards itself and the Russian past. In order to
understand the interesting nature of this appeal, it is important to clarify the context of the Mars
Corporation in Russia. Chocolate was one of the most heavily advertised industries after Russia
first opened its gates to international brands. I already spoke about the Snickers fiasco, which
turned the Mars Corporation into a symbol of American infiltration. The image of the Mars
Corporation was one of want and involuntary Americanization. This context makes the Russian
advertisement all the more surprising, since it appears that the company is attempting to create
false memories of Russianness through the commercial. Not all the implications in the
advertisement are false. The reality is that the Mars Corporation has been in Russia since 1990,
and with that it has witnessed the country’s struggle with scarcity and success in stability
(Ciochetto, 45). What is interesting is that Mars uses the appeal of historical humor even if the
real history of Mars is not particularly flattering to the company.
The humor in this advertisement works with two Russian cultural realities. One is that of
the anekdot or short funny story. The other reality is the Russian historical nostalgia, where due
to the importance of nationalist identity, companies attempt to connect themselves with the
Russian people. I will first speak of the cultural staple known as the anekdot. In his book on
Perestroika, Everything was Forever Until it was No More, Alexei Yurchak examines bottom-up
societal facets to explain the fall of the Soviet Union. One of these facets is the anekdot, which
he defines as, “a short, formulaic joke that can be repeated by different people in different
contexts” (Yurchak, 273). However, an anekdot is more than simply a joke, as at least in the
Russian perception, it contains derisive or political humor. Yurchak remarks that during
Perestroika, new anekdoty (plural form) were not created, perhaps due to less of a need for
stealthy political dissidence (Yurchak, 276). I disagree with the simplicity of this reasoning, and
posit that to create a Perestroika anekdot, a time for reflection was necessary, a time that has now
passed.
Through an analysis of the Mars advertisement, it actually appears that they are creating a
Perestroika anekdot for the present Russian generation. The particular type of anekdot depicted is
one where the initial idealist believes one thing about the future, but looking back later realizes
they were wrong. Yurchak writes about the anekdot that it worked by, “engaging with
discontinuities of the whole discursive regime and with one’s participation in them” (Yurchak,
281). With that lens we can now see the little girl in the advertisement with her newly found
capitalist wants, that of fashionable clothes, a businessman husband, and of course Mars candy,
as a symbol of the hopeful Russian society going into capitalism. This of course is the set up to
the punchline, of the modern Russian woman who looks back at her former self, with the only
continuity being the constant desirability of the candy. The joke lies in both the incorrectness of
the dream and its innocence, while simultaneously maintaining the Russianness of both. In
terms of incorrectness it parallels the anekdoty about the hopes for communism versus the
realities, which is the subject of a large amount of the anekdoty during Soviet times (Yurchak,
280). The innocence is also humorous as it parallels many American girls’ dreams of growing
up to be a princess. In contrast to the American dream, the Russian girl dreams of being a
capitalist princess, with all the luxuries enjoyed in the West and a prince who is a businessman.
Still the new anekdot, while maintaining ties to the past, casts the advertisement’s Russianness in
a modern light, showing the establishment of capitalism in the nation. The woman in the final
scene bears no marks that would indentify her as anything but a modern woman in a capitalist
nation, and the surrounding environment indicates an advanced country that is moving towards
economic prominence.
The aspect of Russianness as it relates to the each individual component of humor,
innocence, and incorrectness is a very important appeal for large companies such as Mars. To
clarify, each case study does of course attempt to identify with the Russian consumer in uniquely
Russian ways. However, this particular commercial actually physically placed the viewer back
into the Russian past—in affect, Mars employed nostalgia. The application of nostalgia is Mars’
attempt to reverse the ill will, which followed the company after its initial entrance into the
Russian market. Jeremy Morris, in this study of on Russian advertising by Russian companies
“The Empire Strikes Back” summarizes Fillip Aleksandrov’s (a Russian advertising theorist)
argument on Nostalgia. Morris writes, “nostalgia in advertising has, as Aleksandrov argues,
attained the equivalence of fairy tale: it refers to a mythic past, it retains utopian distance from
the present, masking the reality of the changes since 1991 and thus providing a measure of
psychological compensation” (Morris, 650). The nostalgia that Aleksandrov writes about is
specifically Russian, in that it is not about remembering good times, but restructuring them.
Much like the anekdot is a practice in deprecation but also appreciation of cultural history;
Russian nostalgia reframes the present through a re-imagining of the past. In the case of the Mars
commercial, the nostalgia overwrites negative associations with the Mars brand and instead
allows the Russian consumer to believe Mars has been a company intrinsically tied with
Russianness all along.
Case Study 3: The Culture of Being Cultured
I have already established the context of Russia’s Perestroika as it relates to the
importance of brands, but also the way it is ripe for brand fragility. My final case study moves
away from the reality of brand identity in Russia. It does not play up upon the fetishization of
Western logos, or the re-appropriated image of a once reviled company. Rather this final
example instead exploits a core Russian value to mold a consumer towards a once unheard of
product. For my last analysis, I will analyze how Sony markets its eReader not as a hot new
gadget, but rather an essential product for the continuation of an old necessity—kulturnost.
Before expanding on the meaning of kulturnost, I will first present the juxtaposition of
the American Sony advertisement (see Figure 5) and the Russian Sony advertisement (see Figure
6). As with the previous comparisons I want to show the different approach that Sony specifies
towards Russia, and explain the subsequent Russian cultural appeal that marks the difference.
The American advertisement goes for a controversial message. Visually, it is innocent enough,
presenting the new eReader leaning against a stack of books. However, the text is much
raunchier. Underneath the image the advertisement reads, “Sexier than a librarian (your librarian
may vary)” (Figure 5). The appeal is one of mild shock value. On the surface it touches upon
the cultural sexual trope for librarians that appears in a variety of films and television shows.
Simultaneously, the advertisement implies that now with the eReader, going to the library is
unnecessary, subtly inserting the purpose of the eReader, which replaces written text and
consequently, the librarian. The advertisement’s image also place the eReader in front of the
books, in order to assert its dominance and show the features included.
The Russian Sony advertisement for the eReader contains no sexual or cheeky elements,
rather a sophisticated visual which describes the importance of reading. Instead of the self-
explicable image of a pile of books and the product, we see a large tree that appears to be
fragmented. Upon closer inspection one can see that the tree itself is actually made of individual
books. Unlike the bold centered white text in the American advertisement, the Russian example
contains a small script at the bottom right corner, so that the whole focus can be on the image.
However, the viewer will not overlook the script considering that it provides the context for the
image, and the diagonally placed tree acts as a vector to lead to eye to the text. This all-
important caption reads, “An educated person reads one tree of books per year. Switch to E-
Books” (Figure 6). First of all, it is crucial to note that while this advertisement is selling the
eReader, as is evident by the image of the reader on the lower right; nowhere does it mention the
product by name. Also, the appeal from the caption is not one that describes the specs of the
eReader, or its sexy look (in fact this advertisement is very tame compared to the American one)
but instead, emphasizes the importance of being educated. The product is not about transferring
one’s casual hobby of reading; rather Sony argues that the eReader will facilitate a consumer’s
position and pride through a certain level of personal education.
Sony’s appeal is essentially one of guilt, the guilt of lacking the Russian necessity of
kulturnost. The guilt appeal is present because the consumer will certainly not feel as if he reads
one tree of books per year, especially if he is measuring himself by the tree growing towards
infinity in the advertisement. Therefore, he or she will feel guilty about their lack of personal
initiative to be considered educated. Clearly, the American advertisement uses no guilt tactics,
only encouragement to buy the product through evidence of convenience, and a little humorous
delivery. Since I have already mentioned it a few times I will now define kul’turnost. To
explain the historical background of the Sony advertisement, I will be drawing upon Jane
Zavisca’s study, “The Status of Cultural Omnivorism: A Case Study of Reading in Russia.”
Zavisca defines kul’tronost as, “the state of being cultured” and that reading is essential to this
state (Zavisca , 1237). After Stalin, reading and maintaining book collections became evidence
of being a cultured person. Middle class families during Soviet times would hoard and display
books in their living rooms in order to signify social status. This high opinion of reading
possibly stemmed from, “party propaganda equat[ing] education, urban residence, and
professionalism with being cultured, and state policies encouraged stratified cultural
consumption according to education, occupation, party rank, gender, and region” (Zavisca,
1237). The importance of this stratification and the maintenance of upper cultural appearances
and thereby upper status made sense during a time when high economic levels were reserved for
only party officials. Under the Soviet Union people could not be judged through their bank
accounts, but definitely by their bookshelves.
In this context, it may therefore appear that the Sony advertisement is playing upon high
status individuals that maybe lost their kul’turnost. The oligarchs that populate the market still
would need to be educated to be deemed of high class by society, much like the new money
businessmen in the United States are encouraged to experience classical music, fine wine, and
art. While this guilt appeal might be true, I see Sony not picking their consumer between the rich
or the middle class, but rather taking the proverbial fork in the road and eating with it. Zavisca
summarizes the current Russian cultural stratification through reading with the following
passage:
The recent, drastic impoverishment of much of the population---particularly the soviet
“mass intelligentsia” of teachers, doctors, scientists and engineers---threatens their sense
of status as well as living standards. New entrepreneurs, on the other hand, suffer social
disdain in a society that remains deeply suspicious of wealth. Economic successes in the
market economy brings higher living standards, but it does not readily convert into status
honor (Zavisca, 1234).
It is clear that while the intelligentsia class is suffering economically, they are better off
culturally than the newly rich. Therefore, Sony has perfectly crafted their advertisement to the
new capitalist reality of modern Russia while deeply rooting themselves in Soviet tradition.
With their guilt appeal, Sony can both target the continuous reading necessity of the
intelligentsia class to maintain its cultural status, and simultaneously shaming the rich consumer
for their lack of kul’turnost.
The Reality of this Essay: How Big is the Grain of Salt
It can be easy to discount the conclusions reached through my line of inquiry with a
simple mention of quantity. I did indeed only use three Russian advertisements and their
American counterparts as case studies. Still, I believe that the deductions obtained from these
advertisements are still valuable. The underlying assumption of my work is that the purpose of
each appeal used in an advertisement is to better sell that product to a consumer base. This
means that the appeal also indicates something about who the consumer is and what they value.
For these reasons, I chose advertisements from large, successful, and prominent companies in the
Russian market. Starbucks continues to grow the popularity if its coffee, Mars is one of the
largest food companies in Russia, and Sony maintains a powerful presence in the technology
sector. Due to the success of these companies and their experience in other countries, the
approach they take is quite sophisticated. Therefore, if Soviet cultural roots are present in all of
their advertisements, it can be considered more than mere coincidence, and an actual shared
understanding of a the Russian consumer audience. Each company is aware of the history they
are using as an appeal, and therefore by working backwards, we can be aware of this history as
well.
Also, I am in no way declaring this study as the end of the road. Unfortunately, the
plagues of source availability, time, and resources harped upon my research. I can simply hope
to have opened up an interesting path of inquiry towards modern Russian advertising.
Additionally, I wish to present Russia in the light of a complicated historical economy, not just a
classic emerging market. Perhaps my emphasis on the present importance of Russia’s past can
shape a future research perspective. Furthermore, my research is not the only evidence that
shows that Russia is continuously touched by its Soviet past. The continual issues of
infrastructure, industry, and politics are directly stemmed from the not too distant history of the
USSR. However, instead of taking the top-down approach of the USSR’s modern narrative, I
attempted to show its existence through the three contemporary advertisement case studies.
The Future of the Past
Unfortunately, Russia is not a person. We cannot sit her down, ask how she is feeling,
and what is on her mind. No, Russia is a vast nation, a fortress even, of immense political and
economic importance to both the United States and the rest of the world. Still, despite the
abstractness of the concept and the distortion of our lenses, the Russian people themselves can be
revealed slowly and patiently, perhaps one study at a time. The studies I used were
advertisements, one of the most important and yet imperfect mirrors of any capitalist society. In
order to sell their product, the company must know their consumer. Starbucks knows that Russia
has a historical obsession with foreign logos. But more importantly, Russians are willing to
carry shells of the luxurious things they desire, which creates a cheap and effective campaign.
Mars knows that Russians love a good joke, or anekdot, where they can laugh at themselves and
what they used to want. But also, Mars transformed this anekdot from not just a humorous
appeal, but to one of the highly valued idea of Russian nostalgia. And finally, Sony knows that
no matter what economic position a Russian finds himself in, he still desires to be thought of as a
highly cultured person from reading books.
Despite the intimacy the companies have with Russia’s past, they also know something
else. Each company knows that Russia is moving forward. The economy has produced
billionaires and the binary between American capitalism and Soviet communism has been
dismantled. The Russian consumer is as sophisticated and skeptical as the American one, but
despite this, they do not want to be treated like Americans. Instead, as Russia moves forward it
also looks backward, towards itself, its history, and its specific values. Perhaps in the case of
Russia, a constant reference of the past is as close as we can get to seeing the straw in the glass.
Maybe the goal is not to remove the straw, but understand the water that surrounds it.