Marketing Disasters

Noted geologist Jim Berkland—a former U.S. Geological Survey scientist with an 80% earthquake prediction rate who called 1989’s San Francisco quake within four days—recently speculated about a major seismic event occurring along North America’s western coastline before the end of March.

Like our planet needs another catastrophe. We’re still picking ourselves up from the 2004 tsunami that killed a half million people and reshaped the Indian Ocean coastline. Recovery from last year’s Haiti earthquake, while productive, is dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of its destruction. Efforts have begun following recent quakes in New Zealand and Japan, the last of which included a twenty-foot tsunami and nuclear crisis of unknown proportions.

Within our shores, we’re reconstructing the Manhattan skyline a decade after the worst terrorist attack in our nation’s history. And if Hurricane Katrina’s lingering effects were not enough, residents in coastal Louisiana and Mississippi are also mopping up the world’s largest oil spill.

These devastated areas require a tidal wave of aid—water, food and medical supplies, plus money to rebuild—the kind generated by massive worldwide awareness efforts. To ensure this desperately needed assistance, relief organizations must look at global disasters as brands. They share a common message: we need your help, now. Their audience is anyone of means who will listen and contribute. And the world economy serves as their competitive environment.

Beyond that, however, each event has a unique personality—often a mix between an area’s cultural distinctions and the nature of the catastrophe—that defines and shapes how potential donors will perceive it. This is where the business model stops. There is no bankruptcy option, no suitor to sweep in for an impending sale. The effectiveness of a disaster’s humanitarian efforts will impact the quality of life for future generations. And while failure is not an option, some succeed more than others.

Take Japan. Reports today raised the number of dead and missing from last month’s chain-reaction catastrophe to a staggering 24,000. Yet according to an article in the Chronicle of Philanthropy, the U.S. monetary response pales when compared to that of other disasters. Six days after Katrina donations surpassed $457 million; the Haiti earthquake generated over $210 million over that same time span. Five days after the devastation in Japan, contributions had yet to reach $65 million.

How can something so emotionally powerful not stir our compassion—and contributions—more equitably?

Partly because of a nation’s stature. Being an industrialized country with a strong government and vibrant economy has actually hampered public sentiment for Japan. The U.S. Fund for UNICEF didn’t begin receiving donations for four days. Why? They didn’t know what was being asked of them. Disaster-response systems were already in place, overwhelmed yet working away. So UNICEF was forced to reassess what their role would be in Japan—or could be, given the stringent operating restrictions placed on outside relief.

Part of it also lies in the perception that our contributions just don’t matter. We Americans like to feel that we are making a difference. In fact, we insist on it. Anyone familiar with U.S. foreign policy can tell you as much. Poverty-stricken regions like Haiti and Indonesia don’t simply need our help to recover from the recent earthquake. They need our help, period. But Japan? The source of our stiffest automotive competition, where the going rate for a typical restaurant entrée is fifty bucks? Do they really?

The answer is yes, really. That’s the challenge dozens of organizations faced in those crucial first days. Disaster relief has a window of two to three weeks, after which the headlines fall from the front pages—and the donations follow. Just as few anticipated the domino effect that rocked the Pacific Rim, few also expected such difficulty in selling relief for a flourishing nation. If there’s one thing recent history has shown, it’s that disasters don’t discriminate. They rock rich and poor alike, and no one nation is strong enough to handle a global catastrophe on its own.

It’s a message we may one day have to sell to the world. Perhaps as early as the end of this month.

There are still many ways to help the people of Japan. A list of international aid organizations committed to providing relief to Japan and other affected areas can be found at www.causes.com. To support UNICEF’s efforts to help children in Japan visit www.unicefusa.org.