Wake Up And Sell The Coffee: Does Rebranding Always Pay?

Caffeine fanatics across the globe were rudely jolted awake by disturbing rumors: The iconic Dunkin’ Donuts retail chain is formally changing its title to a minimalist-themed, millennial-friendly, modern-toned moniker: Dunkin’.

That’s right.

Dunkin’.

The multi-million dollar name change, officially being implemented after months of exhaustive brand research and following a meticulous forensic marketplace analysis, involves dropping the second word from the storied store name.

“Our new branding is one of many things we are doing as part of our blueprint for growth to modernize the Dunkin’ experience for our customers,” Dunkin’ Brands’ CEO David Hoffmann said in a statement. “We believe our efforts to transform Dunkin’, while still embracing our incredible heritage, will keep our brand relevant for generations to come.”

The new branding will appear on packaging, advertising, Dunkin’s website and social media channels beginning January 1st, according to the company. Stores will also feature new signage, while a few select locations utilizing Dunkin’s new design format have already tested the new name over the past year, as the company embraces this new brand platform.

Sigh.

Instead of being regarded as a timeless American institution of gooey-custard-donuty-goodness and cozy-coffee-cup-charm, Dunkin’ will now exude the same generic hipness exhibited by countless we-are-oh-so-trendy-please-buy-your-coffee-here retail clones that have sprouted up in countless shopping malls, rest stops, and gas stations.

Think Starbucks.

And The Coffee Bean.

And Krispy Kreme.

And Tully’s Coffee.

And Tim Hortons.

You know the look all too well.

Reclaimed wood planks.

Gleaming porcelain tiles.

Vintage light fixtures.

Ugh.

How utterly predictable.

Basically … this legendary institution of blue-collared-caffeinated-goodness is losing its homey, likeable luster and becoming yet another myopic brand; the latest corporate casualty to jump on the wannabe-copycat-lookalike bandwagon of hipsterization and millennialism.

Bad move.

Quite possibly, consumers flock to Dunkin’ Donuts – baggy eyelids, baggy trousers, baggy overcoats and all – precisely because it offers them a low-key, no-frills, pocket-friendly way to imbibe the obligatory morning cup-o-joe.

There’s no pressure to slide on a pair of trendy TOMS, apply Maybelline Great Lash Mascara, or style that wavy pompadour with an Agave Healing Oil Natural Bamboo Paddle Brush before ordering a Triple-Venti, Half-Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato from your supercilious barista. The sequence for placing an order is surprisingly simple. 

Walk inside. Buy a humble coffee. Choose a basic donut. Pay the cashier. Grab a napkin. And leave.

Who knew that such a simple, yet perceptibly effective, business model happily existed in 2018?

Or at the very least … happily existed until Dunkin’ Donuts chose to abandon the singular strategy that made themselves successful in the first place.

The appeal of Dunkin is, in my humble opinion, precisely that it’s the Unjava; the symbolic Uncola of the proverbial Coffee Conglomerates.

The Unjava?

Let’s take a little stroll down Memory Lane, with compliments to AdAge Magazine and the Duke University Department of History, and peruse the underbelly of a groundbreaking marketing campaign from decades ago.

In the early 1970s, as part of its new advertising strategy, the 7-Up Soda Company had J. Walter Thompson design a campaign that framed 7-Up as the ultimate oppositional drink: the “Uncola.”

Rather than trying to play up the similarities the soda shared with its competitors, the new ads focused on its differences. In the company newsletter, the team explained “Seven-Up advertising tells people that, of the three top-selling soft drink brands, 7-Up, the Uncola, is the only one with distinctly different qualities.”

The “Uncola” struck a chord with the younger generation. They focused on puns based around “un” part of the new slogan. By portraying Coke and Pepsi as “the Establishment,” JWT effectively situated 7-Up as an alternative brand for unconventional people. Out of this collaboration came one of the most famous advertising campaigns of the 20th century.

Now let us collectively fast-forward, pretty please, to the present.

Some folks want to begin the day by sipping their gourmet Jitter Juice elixir amidst a crowd of man-bun-sporting, MacBook-toting, fashionable gentlemen and dog-in-purse, iPhone-carrying, vogueish womenfolk.

Enter the glamorous world of Starbucks & Co.

And some folks want to begin the day sipping their plain Jitter Juice brew surrounded by down-to-earth, sneaker-wearing, regular guys and happy-go-lucky, ponytail-bobbing, unpretentious ladies.

Enter the wholesome world of Dunkin’ Donuts.

But what happens when the trustworthy torchbearer of good ol’ coffee simplicity goes on a wild shopping spree … and returns looking more like a dashing downtown Brooklyn café and less like a longtime Main Street morning staple?

The Unjava becomes undone. You’re inevitably left with a frazzled group of confused and frustrated customers who no longer understand how to relate to this once-cherished, previously-adored brand. The brand equity swirls away in a fleeting puff of Blended Pumpkin Spice smoke. 

Which is why Dunkin’ has, quite unwittingly, served up a blistering pot of truly bitter coffee.

The diehard Dunkin’ Donuts loyalists of America have passionately patronized this coffee shop for decades and embraced the authentic sprit of goodness it faithfully represented. Not because of the soon-to-be-installed fossilized wooden tables and hand-blown glass bulbs. But, quite the contrary, because it did not display the gentrified trappings of an understaffed, overpriced Park Slope café.

So why would Dunkin’ uproot the sole selling point that sets it apart?

Can somebody explain how trying to play second fiddle to a plethora of existing gourmet java shops is considered sound business strategy?

Where is the logic behind taking a winning recipe as a low-key, no-fuss industry differentiator and literally roasting it to a rancorous crisp?

Surely, Dunkin’ does not want to see a hefty segment of their customer base waddle away furiously in search of another low-cost, high-calorie, plainly-brewed alternative. Yet, the plan of action being taken by this erroneous exercise in retail rebranding may unwittingly create a poor pecuniary outcome that, disturbingly enough, threatens the future existence of the acclaimed Dunkin’ brand.

One can only hope the shortsighted executives behind this soon-to-be-launched marketing debacle wake up and – quite literally – smell the coffee.

[Credits: Authored By Abraham Bree // Featured In Biz-Tank Magazine]