Hello again, and welcome to Part 3 of this special edition of Food for Thought. This is the final section of the three-part series. If you didn’t get last week’s Substack; here is the link to catch up. We will be back to our regular weekly stories next week.
As usual, comments are open; enjoy👌
Something to inspire
There’s an old Sinhalese expression “Salli deviyange malli”; meaning money is God’s little brother… It’s a common sentiment—money might not buy happiness, but it sure does solve a lot of problems.
The thing is—money plays an essential role in our lives. We buy our water, we buy our food, we buy a bed to sleep on, we buy a house to live in, we buy transport to get around, we buy plants to grow in our garden; just about everything in our lives is purchased. And I think these transactional relationships and dependencies we created, live outside cultural identities and political divides; and I’m grateful for it.
Sometimes people and businesses go to a great extent for money. Like changing their identity to improve their commercial prospects. A company might change the name of its product to better suit market expectations. Similarly, someone could change their surname to create a more marketable identity.
A brand identity is usually inherited and moulded by outside influences; cultural or societal assimilation. Similar to how people adopt a surname as part of a community; marital and family ties. Not to be confused with personality; which emerges from within and is built from experiences. The two (identity and personality) have a reciprocal relationship and change over time; some faster than others. Today I’m going to focus on identity and how it is shaped by the stories we believe.
The meaning of a name can change over time; usually by the stories they become known for. Take for example a popular Sri Lankan surname like De Silva. Beyond its common indexical significance, it is rooted in colonial history. There’s also its Latin meaning; of the forest or woodland. These are story options to identify with.
The hybridity of Sri Lankan surnames appears to emphasize the cross-cultural elements of their origin stories. At one point in time, someone became a De Silva because they converted or married into a Catholic family, or mostly probably because it made life easier in a colonial society. A Catholic name provided access to government positions and titles. The branding business works in the same fashion; changing identity can be good for business…
Companies sometimes change their name or identity to better align with cultural and societal frameworks. For example, in 2020 Quaker Oats acknowledged that the identity of their Aunt Jemima products was based on a racial stereotype; 132 years later. Now they’ve rebranded the product line to Pearl Milling Company; a name that references the original mill where the pancake mix was created in 1888. The rebranding has removed the offensive elements and still points to the history of the business.
...and just like that, it's a new story.
Origin stories give meaning to the names we use to identify. During the Spanish Inquisition, the plan was to rid the entire region of heresy and unite the empire under one orthodoxy. Whoever wasn’t killed, was inspired to convert or expelled. Hundreds of thousands of Sephardic Jews (Spanish Jews) adopted Catholic names to avoid persecution. Amongst them were surnames like De Silva, Pereira, Nunes, Gomes, Dias, Fernando, Cardoso, Mendes, and Pinto to name a few.
Stories can define multiple facets of an identity. In this way, they shape how we see ourselves and others in the world. When stories are capsuled into bite-size ideas, like for example on social media and news; it orchestras a particular narrative. Our devices parcel the world into a frame that leaves little room for context. Short stories are easy to share. This often has a polarizing effect by either downplaying the significance of certain aspects or sensationalizing the most shocking elements of an identity. Framing and structuring information is, essentially what storytelling comes down to.
This approach usually works to evoke emotions, shape perceptions, and persuade an audience to make a decision. Well-crafted narratives target the affinities or fears of a particular audience. Yet, commerce seems to encourage connections that transcend boundaries created by cultural, religious and political stories.
We still import from other countries, we still order products from other cities, we still get our produce from the market, and we still need each. Twenty-first-century living requires us to foster relationships that are largely driven by economic needs rather than story alignment. Surprisingly, commerce seems to help bridge divides and underlines a fundamental element of our society; we are interconnected. Our shared interest as consumers, even if it’s economic, can lead to collaborative efforts and mutual understanding. Perhaps we are more connected through reliance than cultural myths and political stories.
Food for thought.