I spent a day at a brewery once. The president didn’t want me there. He thought advertising was about slogans, about being bold and memorable. He wanted a campaign that would make people feel something. I told him I needed to see how they made the beer first.
They showed me everything. The glass-enclosed rooms where the beer cooled without exposure to open air. The plate-glass pipes, cleaned with steam every day. The artesian wells, filtered through limestone. The mother yeast, carried forward from culture to culture for decades. White-uniformed workers. Spotless floors.
I said: why don’t you tell people this?
He said every brewery does this.