Branded Nation: The Marketing of Megachurch, College Inc., and Museumworld

This is insightful work which makes the case for the domination of our country by marketing, making the consumer choice king. The author uses the three cultural areas of church, college and museum as examples. Being very much close to the church, I can vouch for the pervasiveness of this unbiblical seige. Having a degree and experience in the advertising/marketing corporate world as well to a MDiv. degree and now pastor, I can attest to its dominance now in much of Christiany. It is unbiblical. The Bible does not expouse this effective way of moving products and services to consumers. Jesus was not a marketing man. His application of this business philosophy has permeated so much of the rest of the USA culture, here documented in the college and museum world. These are outside of my areas of expertise, so will refrain any comment, other than to say that Twitchell's analysis and commentary is both creative, substantive and entertaining. Truth is being replaced by image, and the media is the message! This is truly one to read and contemplate.

I first became aware of Jim Twitchell when I saw him speak at a conference in 2003. When he began his speech with a description of Florentine churches as one of the earliest examples of competitive branding, I was hooked, and have since read a number of his books. Branded Nation examines religion, academia, and art, and explains how these areas are just as permeated by the commercialism of our society as any other, despite the special status they've been accorded. His message resonated with me and served to explain changes I've seen in religion, education, and museums in my own lifetime. I would agree with another reviewer who mentioned that this title seems drag a bit in the museum section. Nonetheless, Twitchell's style is intellectually engaging, and takes the edge off what might be considered a cynical view.

In this lively book, James Twitchell helps illuminate some of the interesting consequences when non-profits -- embodied in this book as Megachurch, College Inc, and Museumworld -- borrow branding techniques to market themselves. I found the introduction a little long and academic (e.g., he talks about how the romanticism of Wordsorth and Keats influences modern branding). But the book gets progressively better. In my opinion, his best chapter is on the college (appropriate, since the author is a professor at the University of Florida). Here's an illuminating analogy from the chapter (which he cites from another source): "If Consumer Reports functioned like U.S. News [in ranking colleges], it would rank cars on the amount of steel and plastic used in their construction, the opinions of competing car dealers, the driving skills of customers, the percentage of managers and sales people with MBAs, and the sticker price on the vehicle (the higher, the better)." This book is not a polemic: it isn't trying to convince you that churches, colleges and musuems _shouldn't_ market themselves. It's just trying to explain what happens when nonprofits _do_ market themselves. I'll never look at the college admissions process or a musuem gift shop the same way again. The writing is lively, and the book has a few well-chosen images to underscore its points. Bottom line: it's well worth a read. It's one of those books which help you understand why things are the way they are -- e.g., why modern musuems have restaurants, why universities have development offices, and why parking is crucial to the growth of mega-churches.

Twitchell takes a very ironic look at the way churches, museums, and higher education have used branding to survive. It's ironic in that while the effects of this might seem undesirable or even embarrassing, we the public are merely getting what we ask for...we're just consumers. Then Twitchell explains why, in some cases, the effects of this branding are not undesirable after all. The most insightful section of the book covers the branded-ness of higher education (appropriately so, since Twitchell is himself a professor). Twitchell describes American higher eduction choices as a barbell, with elite colleges such as Harvard on one end and "convenience" colleges (think Wal-Mart) on the other end, with the institutions in the middle feeling the real squeeze to differentiate themselves. Also included is an interesting look at the US News & World Report college list phenomenon as well as a look at why convenience colleges might not be as bad as you think. Twitchell even includes some practical insight on where college dollars might be best spent. I found the megachurch section to be only so-so. Perhaps because I am very familiar with megachurches I found many of his points to be pretty boring. (Guess what - megachurches have modern sounding music!?) The section on Willow Creek finding its marketing niche (men) was interesting, however. If you are reading this book primarily to learn about megachurches I might recommend The Transformation of American Religion by Alan Wolfe instead. It is a bit more scientific and objective in its study. Twtichell's writing style is a bit odd...not bad, but just a little different. At times he does ramble a bit but then suddenly includes a dense and insightful sentence. This style kept my interest but made the book a careful, not quick, read. Also important is the reader's willingness to buy into the definition of "brand" as STORY. This may be a mental jump for some. In short, this is an enjoyable book. You won't look at college, church, or museums in the same way.

James Twitchell has written extensively on advertising and consumerism, and knows that consumers are not logical. If we were, he says, we would know that we needed, say, a laundry detergent, and would research to see what detergent was best, perhaps checking to see what the boffins at _Consumer Reports_ might recommend. Then we would take the recommendation to the grocery store, where we would see a very restricted number of possible logical choices. It doesn't work that way for detergent, nor, these days, does it work that way for churches, museums, or universities. In _Branded Nation: The Marketing of Megachurch, College Inc., and Museumworld_ (Simon & Schuster) Twitchell has written a funny and scary evaluation of the pervasiveness of marketing in American life beyond the grocery shelves. The problem with laundry detergents is that there are plenty of them, offered by many suppliers, and most of them are interchangeable. There is very little difference between them, so it is necessary for the manufacturers to create a story about the brand, how it is "clothesline-fresh", perhaps, or how the power-granules go to work on stains. Twitchell's thesis is that schools, museums, and churches are all supplying pretty much the same thing, and to up their market share, they are telling stories about themselves (branding) and as good consumers, we are going along with them. We think that museums have a higher calling than competing for a market share, that they don't really pay attention to the turnstiles, and that they are "... only the custodians of, shhh, please be quiet, don't touch, the deep truth." However true this may have been in the past, it is no longer. There has been a huge growth in the numbers of museums, the theme of a surplus of goods, though we don't usually view museums that way. The "modern, formal, self-conscious museum" is not what people go to as much as they go to theme exhibits, like "Jacqueline Kennedy: The White House Years" at the Metropolitan Museum of Art; the theme is the brand and holds the emotion. For decades there have been more college students than seats in the classroom, so the marketing had to begin. Harvard wouldn't admit as much, but it has a great brand. Twitchell (who is a professor of English at the University of Florida, an institution that does not avoid some withering remarks here) sniffs at the Harvard record, which he says lacks real substance. What's good about Harvard is not what comes out, but what goes in: "the best students, the most money, and the deepest faith in the brand." In churches, the product, epiphany or salvation, is undifferentiated, producing cut-throat competition for the stable forty percent of people who go to church regularly; this number does not go up, so churches are taking customers (sometimes known as parishioners) from one another. Twitchell examines the brand shifts in Protestantism that are the same as when Sam's Club comes to town: warehouse churches, of no