One remarkable aspect of Kingfisher having gone out of business as an airline is the fact that we can still be invited to “get high" on Kingfisher. While it refers to a colourful bird, the carrier took its name from a popular brand of beer marketed by the same UB Group. Until it folded up, this group’s aviation play was clearly a business in its own right.
Even so, it was a case of ‘brand synergy’ (in B-school speak) as much as surrogate advertising, defined as a campaign for one thing on the face of it and something else in its market effect. As a brand, if Kingfisher retains space in people’s memory, some of the credit is due to an impression left by UB’s high-profile aviation venture. The name was painted large across its aircraft exteriors, with every flight assuring it visibility of a kind unseen since the zeppelin era of advertising.
This airborne medium was even more snazzy, if anything, as planes flew around airing the brand’s visual cues and attracting eyeballs. Today, despite the UB Group’s woes, the alcoholic beverage that sells under that label has proven so resilient against a freshly brewed wave of rivalry that even Heineken, UB’s Dutch equity partner, should thank those flights. The point, though, is this: Should an airline called Kingfisher ever have been allowed into Indian skies? If the answer is yes, then we will find it hard to police surrogacy in advertising, a practice that may not always be outright deception, but is often too clever by half.
As reported by Mint, India’s ministry of consumer affairs has draft rules under review that aim to curb advertisements which mask what they’re out to hawk. That such ads pervade online spaces and TV airwaves is beyond doubt. All kinds of party knick-knacks,
. Read more on livemint.com