A lesson to learn from a Colgate shut out

Some companies have managed so successfully in marketing their products that consumers associate their brand names to be the goods themselves. Take the case of the popular company called Colgate Palmolive Philippines, Inc. It is not surprising to hear of people going to the store to buy colgate instead of asking the sales personnel to serve them toothpaste.

That was the case in my town of birth, Candijay, a peaceful municipality 92 kilometers distant from Tagbilaran, capital of Bohol. When I came to the age of reason there, many years ago, merchandise manufactured by Colgate Palmolive was already sold even in the small sari-sari stores. In all probability, that company was present in the market ahead of everyone else not only in Bohol but throughout the country. It was first to introduce its products that answered the needs of the consumers. And so each time I ran errands, I took Colgate as “the” tooth paste and Palmolive as “the” bath soap. I even thought that, on the side, free movies were shown only by that manufacturing firm!

As I raised my own family here in the city and away from my birthplace, I have strengthened my traditional buying habits. We have always continued to patronize Colgate Palmolive products even if, at a later time, I harbored personal disappointment against a major company decision. When it moved its manufacturing operations to another Asian country, depriving, in the process, Filipinos of lucrative jobs, I felt it betrayed us.

Several weeks ago, we brought home another brand of toothpaste. I noticed that we already shifted to Hapee. When, upon my reading its packaging, I found it to be a Filipino product, manufactured in the Philippines, presumably by Filipino labor employed by Filipino capital, I could not quantify my satisfaction. To me, it was special considering its nationalistic dimension. Indeed, I thought that my lady, Carmen, just decided to give meaning to an article I wrote many months back which was anchored on the philosophy of buying Filipino.

However, I discovered that nationalism had nothing to do with our change of product preference. At SM, the mall where we also buy our groceries, Colgate Palmolive products are no longer sold. The once dominant consumer goods of that manufacturer are not on the SM shelves anymore. They have disappeared. Since then, and each time we buy our toothpaste, we do not get colgate anymore.

I thought that it was simply a case of temporary exhaustion of stocks. I surmised that both SM and Colgate Palmolive would be able to correct the horrible marketing flaw and, sooner than later, sell again the said products. But, then, the Christmas season came and went with none of my customary consumer items on display. I could not help but conclude that it was not pure strategic marketing error. SM, for whatever reasons it had, decided to shut out Colgate Palmolive.

 SM malls are scattered throughout the country. Judging from the kind of patronage we Cebuanos give to it, it is not difficult to argue that it commands a huge consumer following nationwide. My calculations, coupled with available market information, of the loss of sales suffered by Colgate Palmolive for being unable to sell at SM malls must run to more than fifty million pesos each month. It must now be searching for ways either to be able again to sell at SM or recoup such loss somewhere.

I begin to look at the situation from the point of national policy formulation. It is possible for our country to pass laws that encourage manufacturers to produce their goods in our shores because retailing them can be, without inviting international attention to the delicate issue of protectionism and certainly without violating the rapidly developing concept of liberal transnational trade, enhanced by national policies. Our leaders must examine the current SM – Colgate Palmolive business relations to hammer out a statutory mechanism of this similar tendency. Who knows that our country can extract an opportunity from this dire situation.