Xerox

The Fuji Xerox Company of Japan took out last Wednesday several advertisements in the major national dailies in the Philippines asking the general public to "please don't use the word Xerox as another word for 'copy'."

I can understand that, as a registered trademark, the use of the word Xerox is protected by law, especially if such use is unauthorized or without permission from the trademark owner, which in this case is the above-mentioned company based in Tokyo.

What I cannot understand is when the advertisement said: "As a registered trademark, Xerox is also not a verb or common noun, and should therefore not be used to describe copying or copy services in general."

Maybe it has come to the attention of the Fuji Xerox Company that everywhere you go in the Philippines, wherever there is a somebody doing business as a copying service, the word Xerox is indeed used to mean copying.

"Xerox short - 50 centavos," a sign may read. Or "Xerox long - 75 centavos." To be sure, the word does refer to the trademark, and to be sure further, the use is clearly unauthorized. But there is also such a thing as public domain, and clearly that word has entered it.

The word Xerox, I believe, has become part of the language, in much the same way that Colgate did many decades ago to refer to toothpaste. If it is any consolation to Xerox officials, so many other brand names have entered the lexicon, enriching it with color and depth of meaning.

For example, let me take the case of another popular Japanese brand name – Honda. If you go to the Waray-speaking parts of Leyte, you will be amused to find that Honda has become the generic name for all motorcycles, regardless of whether they are Yamaha, Suzuki or whatever.

"Naka-in ka ngay-an?," you may ask a friend, and he may reply: "Ay dida la, nakigburonyog hin mga kasangkayan, nag-Honda-Honda." In the same areas of Leyte, all four-wheeled vehicles are called auto, regardless of whether they are cars, buses or jeeps. But that is another story.

A refrigerator is now commonly shortened to ref. But there was a time when refrigerators were called Frigidaires, a take from a leading brand in the 1960s. "Butangi na’g tubig nang pitser sa pregider," somebody's mom would likely yell.

When I was a boy, the common drink among the neighborhood men was tuba, and this native drink is usually measured by the sari-sari store owner in "Balls." "Taksi ra ko og usa ka bol diha," someone would tell the manang behind the counter.

As boys we were not allowed to go near men drinking, so for a long time I thought bol was an actual word that meant some form of measurement for tuba. Then I discovered that the glass jar they called bol actually had the word "Ball" written on it. It was a brand name for something.

   There, too, was Mongol, a brand name for a kind of pencil that is still popular even now. But in my childhood, as soon as we moved from those anonymous black pencils as thick as a thumb to the more nimble yellow ones, the name they usually go by was Mongol. "Paliti ko'g Mongol, pa."

And then, of course, there is Kodak. What Filipino, except perhaps for the youngest generation among us, has not had his or her picture taken by a Kodak, even if the camera is of another brand. "Nakapakodak na ka? Magpakodak na ta!"

We do not know the values and principles observed within the Fuji Xerox Company so it is difficult to argue against the importance with which it attaches to the name Xerox as a duly registered trademark.

But I believe that for a brand name to become part of the language, it must suggest a certain effectivity of a message, as well as a great measure of its success. Beyond facilitating communication, it is even a term of endearment. "Xeroki ning akong grado aron malipay si mama!"