The Emperor’s New Brand
Over the weekend, I tackled the dreaded task of comparing energy suppliers. At first, it felt purely functional, more about saving money than values. But after hours of digging, a few insights emerged…
- Brand still matters, even in low-emotion sectors. A disruptor caught my eye, but having dug a bit deeper into their approach, the offering was almost identical to everyone else’s.
- Simplicity is rare. Many brands overpromise and underdeliver, leaving people confused.
- I really hate researching electricity companies.
Once the frustration had passed, I realised how often brands add layers instead of focusing on clarity. At Strut, we believe great brands already exist; the real job is to strip away the unnecessary “fluff” until their essence shines through.
As Michelangelo said of sculpting David:
“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”
Later, my youngest daughter asked what I had been working on. She’s 13 now, but when she was younger one of her favourite stories we read together was The Emperor’s New Clothes. As I explained what I had been doing, it struck me how much the whole process reminded me of that tale.
So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to share a version of that story, a reminder of how easy it is for marketers and brand builders to keep adding layers until the essence of a brand is lost.
Once Upon a Time…
In a prosperous kingdom, the Emperor decided it was time for a personal rebrand. His subjects respected him, but he wanted more: a new look, a new story, a grander way of showcasing his majesty.
So he summoned his most trusted aide and gave a simple brief:
“Find me the finest tailor in the land. Someone who can create garments that reflect my leadership, my dignity, and my vision for this kingdom.”
The aide found a renowned tailor, not known for timeless garments, but for lavish designs, clever stitching, and layers of ornamentation. A man of theatre, not of truth.
The Tailor’s Pitch
The tailor assured the Emperor he didn’t need clothes at all, but a narrative.
Each thread would represent a value. Each embellishment, a purpose. The robes would be more than garments, they would be a living manifesto.
The Emperor was impressed. His aide, though doubtful, stayed quiet.
The Process
Weeks passed. The tailor spun endless decks of fabric concepts, embroidery mood boards, and presentations on the symbolism of sequins.
The garments grew more elaborate, more complicated, more confused. Soon, there were so many “layers of meaning” that no one could remember what the robes were meant to represent in the first place.
The final outfit was dazzling but impossibly heavy, stitched with slogans and symbols that overlapped and contradicted each other. The Emperor looked less like a ruler and more like a walking billboard of buzzwords.
The Grand Reveal
On the day of the unveiling, the Emperor paraded through the city. The tailor beamed. Courtiers gasped, unsure what they were seeing but afraid to say otherwise.
The Emperor, weighed down by his new attire, struggled to walk with dignity.
And then, from the crowd, a child’s voice rang out:
“Why does the Emperor look so confused?”
Silence. In that moment, everyone realised the truth: the garments didn’t reveal the Emperor’s majesty, they distracted from it. Instead of clarity, they created noise. Instead of respect, they produced confusion.
The Moral
The Emperor’s mistake wasn’t in wanting to express himself. It was in believing that complexity made his brand stronger. His people didn’t want a spectacle, they wanted clarity.
The finest branding doesn’t bury leaders in layers of borrowed meaning. It reveals, simply and clearly, who they already are.
Lesson for Today’s Branders & Marketers
In our pursuit of purpose, storytelling, and symbolism, we often dress brands in overcomplicated robes. But the strongest brands are not the loudest or the most layered, they are the clearest.
They don’t need “new clothes.” They just need to be true to themselves.