#i saw someone say that the main demographic of this site is middle class white americans and....yeah that ABSOLUTELY checks out

[apostate-in-an-alcove]

This site is pretty brain dead, I knew that already, but I find it astounding that in everyone's mission to be such an ally to Jewish people and combating antisemitism, a worrying chunk of blogs on here have decided that being flat out racist to Palestinians and regurgitating anti-Arab sentiment was the route to go.

[thebrewstorian]

Pop Culture Conference 2017: Beer Culture: Session 6: the Macros

In the sixth session we heard turned towards macro brewing -- and to hipsters.

Paul Bruski gave the talk "Re-Becoming The Beer It Never Was: Macrobrew’s Stealthy Nostalgia," suggesting that their marketing was based on a sort of "rebecoming nostalgia." He sees them invoking iconography, referencing an idealized time (sounds like the Brexit talk from San Goodman). For anyone who's paid any attention it's easy to see how macro implies "Americanness" - just look to their campaigns of brewing the hard way, not backing down in the face of challenges, beer born the hard way, and references to the struggles of their founder's ambitious journey. This narrative is all part of an ambitious legacy and nostalgia of beer, but it also says that "your history is our history."

And this isn't for new brewery acquisitions or in reference to the craft movement, you see the same thing in the older more "nostalgic" brands through the use of retro-script typefaces, typically some link to German-ness, and a reference local places. Bruski spent the rest of his talk giving examples, highlighting the ways branding links to the past, but also the surprising similarities between their marketing strategies.

Pabst is portrayed as a heritage brand and is branded with the old packaging. Ironically, every attempt to market was actually an attempt not to market, and this ultimately plays into a sort of concurrent normalcy and outsider status.

The new Old Tankard was relaunched with a reformulated recipe and marketed as a 21st century beer made with "new" hops. Their online "brand story" even includes old recipe book, which is nearly impossible to read or conclusively say is the actual recipe used for that beer.

Old Milwaukee also has a new brand that harkens back to history. In this case the old made new is a pin-up series, where you get 21st century stars & stripes pin-up girls. Stay tuned, apparently there is a hunting series coming up.

Lone Star is an excellent example of a beer using a history narrative, even the name connects to a local landmark and the "national" beer of Texas comes in commemorative packaging. It also comes with a message: we are you and you are us. Perhaps ironically, their parent comes also has Primo in Hawaii, so they are you there too. Delightfully, you see the same branding/web site template for Olympia beer. All three work to convince you the company and product are dedicated to history, (not) subtly suggesting things were better back then.

There's a reference in my notes to "Gannett" and the CEO deciding to bring New England beer back. Not sure what point I was recording there??

The Hamm's bit was great because Bruski sang the song! So if you are older than 35 you can probably sing it too... But here's a link in case you don't remember. 

I love the bear... 

This was the beer born in the land of sky blue waters, and it had a memorable bear and jingle that certainly rightly earned its place as one of the hundred best ad campaigns of all times. The iconography still pulls from a regional identification with the "Land of Sky Blue Waters," and of course it's an easy leap to link this brand with the "small town brewery" movement even though the beer is made in a massive facility.

Speaking of nostalgia, people from the Midwest and beyond know about the Grain Belt sign, and even if they didn't know about the beer they had an attachment to the iconic branding. And this is a really interesting example of how an attachment to a sign saved a beer and brand; it reminded people about Grain Belt beer even though it wasn't being produced anymore. And when the sign was in danger the news that surrounded its peril reminded people enough that now it is being brewed again.

Bruski concluded by asking us to consider what goes into a beer that is beyond ingredients. What is the impact of a strong brand? It may invoke a false or fictitious nostalgia, but we have a need for it as we live in this time of rapid change. We may feel stripped of our private identities and struggling to find a place in the world. And that singing bear might make us feel better.

Someone really digging into nostalgia as it relates to hipsters and melancholy was Daniella Gati in "The curious case of PBR and hipster melancholia." So since I'm from the NW I can spot a hipster (and know about beer), but Gati explored the idea of what makes a hipster beer. Is it local? Is it something with a weird name? We saw an odd attachment by hipsters to PBR - no longer Pabst Blue Ribbon, but this simple yellow beer, with a taste and consumer audience that is very different from craft ethos. What does its popularity mean?

So what's the deal with PBR? It's a bland, light, and simple beer, brewed uninterrupted for almost 150 years and supposedly from an unaltered recipe. The company was about to go broke around 2000, and oddly enough this lack of advertising, which appeals to a group that eschews direct advertising, is because they ran out of money. POW!! -- PBR was suddenly embraced by hipsters on the west coast, seemingly on their own accord. And in a world inundated by big billboards, PBR seemed like a refreshing break because of lack of ads and their attraction was similar to why people turn to craft. PBR attempts to re-situate beer into its historical past, to a pre-craft time when beer was simple and "men were men" with an unease with trendy marketing.

Pivoting briefly to craft: this is a category of beer that is perceived as less faceless, but also linked to a "minuscule scale," with each bottle allegedly reflecting small or unique quality. This implies a deeper connection to craft, a labor of love, a love of detail, creative experimentation, and localness. And of course this shift to a new culture of drinking, there is also an implication of a dissatisfaction with mass production.

I joke about NW folks automatically spotting hipsters, but Gati delved more into the question "Who is a hipster and what do they believe in?" We could dismiss their persona or culture as random, but this is as misleading as saying flower children of the 1960s were simply into floral patterns. It is not just a random thing, but way to forge a sense of connection and to understand society.  

Their identity is based on an ironic rejection of consumerism and how it has given way to the consumption of goods. So they like the cheap beer and embrace an anti-bourgeoise stance. But, ironically ironic, to them consumption is actually central, and she says their insistence on simplicity is actually a sort of hyper consumption and their tastes are expensive. Their love of cheap beer isn't because they can't afford more expensive beer. They are contemporary, young working professionals or students, likely from an upper/middle class and white demographic, who are insisting on a counter culture status and thinking of themselves as fringe. Regardless of appearance, Gati says these are predominately privileged people and not from a truly poor segment of society.

But this "disavowing" of consumerism leads to a sort of melancholy nostalgia ((and she quotes Judith Butler here on melancholy), where she sees hipsters longing for a working class era. But because many come from middle class origins, there is little connection to a blue collar existence. This is paradoxical, because as they necessarily reject mythical working class roots, there is still a loss. Deepening the paradoxical nature, there was never an "authentic" American beer experience, so the hipster is actually creating this nostalgia for the past. Gati says this mythicized working class group with an attachment to an illusory "purer" working class tradition is how we got to Nov 8th.

Perhaps it's an awkward (or obvious) transition from the election to zombies... 

Brandon Harris presented "High-End or Zombie Brands? Assessing Brewery Authenticity as seen on Instagram." Harris did an amazing survey of Instagram looking for clues for how you can  spot an account that looks like a craft brewery but is actually a fake one.

This project was driven by an increase in the use of Instagram by smaller breweries to connect with their consumers, but also the trend of A-B InBev purchasing craft breweries and how they were co-opting the social media site in a sort of zombie way - zombie brands that canibalize the industry from the inside. Harris wanted to figure out a way to pick out the zombie accounts from the macro companies from those that were run by craft brew staff.

Here are some of the things he noted about macro: Overall, the posts show the company's place in American society. From a style perspective the aesthetic is very stylized and yes, you see lots of celebrities, it's clear this is a photoshoot, and usually there is a watermark with an age warning or something more about the company. From the perspective of the main thematic concepts, you see concerts and celebrities, but also an implied progressivism, a move that shows they are trying to bring back millennials and be more "liberal." (Maybe the quotes are ironic, maybe not.) At the same time, Harris noted a heavy dose of hostility in the comments sections, with posts opposing gay and immigrants rights. You also see A LOT of reference to professional sports and athleticism, and of course a powerful relationship with the NFL.

On the craft side, it's usually pretty apparent that the vibe is one of an independent company that is creating its own media. Regionalism is built into the image, and the aesthetic always focuses on the product. It's also common to see that point of view of the participant, and a trend towards professional and grainy pictures (which isn't a contradiction here). This message is "this is who we are." From a content standpoint, craft breweries highlight production at multiple stages, and their messaging tends to be educational and intended to inform their community. At the same, it seems clear that these are appreciators don't brew; home brewers are a diminishing part of craft beer so people are getting into brewing another way. Instagram posts also show a lot of collaboration and it's clear that we are supposed to see how well everyone works together. Implied message? Macro doesn't do collaboration. Another version of collaboration is in the tagging on Instagram, so you see tagging by a bigger craft company as a sort of legitimizing of the smaller craft company.

Pictures commonly show employees and a lot of interaction, so even if the audience isn't full of brewers you still can see the process and engage with the making. And within these employee pics it's pretty common to see a lot of the founders -- the inherent message is that these used to be dudes with big home brewing equipment and now look at them.

For craft, community involvement is huge, and you'll see pictures related to their charity and philanthropy. Smaller companies will show direct impact on the local community; this is not just a back drop but part of their authenticity.

One interesting difference between craft and macro companies is in how they interact with fan pictures. The larger craft breweries will give photo credits and add tags to individuals or other businesses. You don't need a tv commercial if you take time to interact, and this is reflected int eh tone of the response comments from the breweries in that they sound like actual people interacting in multiple spaces. On the flip side, macro companies only tag the highly stylized pictures, and infrequently even for those. They don't seem to be interested in one-on-one interaction with user and there is a sense that the macro isn't "talking to commoners."

And so where does the zombie bit come in? The confusing accounts are those that are a sort of hybrid, hiding behind a sort of crafty camouflage. So the pictures are still grainy etc, but when you dissect the words in the posts you'll see some vagueness. An example is in not actually talking about specific sources even when talking about sourcing. At the same time, there is a real benefit for some to the buy out. You'll see transnational brewing tours, massive crowds and concerts, help with orchestration, and beer sold in ballparks or stadium. This zombie threat isn't an automatic thing with a buy out, but eventually you can see the differences. If you have a big bank account, pretty soon you are going to use it. Harrie said you can see this reflected in a reliance on media firms or packaging gimmicks eg non-standard size cans (these cost $$). It takes a critical consumer to spot the difference.

Another good discussion in this session!

One person asked how we can measure the benefit to the community? One panelist said you can ask if the brewery is unionized or employee-owned? Are the employees making enough money? Some breweries will show event pictures as promotion, while others will be more specific about posting donation amounts. Panelists suggested that at the very least, if this is an industry where identity is based on the "local integration" then it also needs to start working with economists to find figures to back up claims that craft is more locally connected. There might be some pressure from craft community, but actual community involvement is pretty much an individual choice.

Another person asked where the definition of community stops? We might want to benefit the person who lives next to us, but what about the person who lives in the next county or across the country or in another country?

And a final question tackled how we measure "authenticity." One panelist suggested that authenticity is constructed and and it si personally perceived. So, in considering social media, how do we gauge its impact and its interaction? Nw we're seeing a new job category of social marketers -- with online interaction and monitoring being their whole job. Though it sounds easy or fun, this is a lot of work and the people who do it are overworked. It's interesting to consider how we focus on how people connect or interact, and even what we expect about individual engagement. For example, do we want to be tweeting with the brewer? At the end of the day, new apps rarely allow people to do new things, but it does allow them to do things more efficiently.

Curious about the pictures? 

Beerd Beer and PBR

Hamms Bear

Beer Zombies