Underdogma: How America's Enemies Use Our Love for the Underdog to Trash American Power

Lee McGinnis (Stonehill College, North Easton, MA, USA)

Journal of Consumer Marketing

ISSN: 0736-3761

Article publication date: 27 April 2012

184

Keywords

Citation

McGinnis, L. (2012), "Underdogma: How America's Enemies Use Our Love for the Underdog to Trash American Power", Journal of Consumer Marketing, Vol. 29 No. 3, pp. 238-239. https://doi.org/10.1108/07363761211221765

Publisher

:

Emerald Group Publishing Limited

Copyright © 2012, Emerald Group Publishing Limited


We have heard how everyone loves the underdog, but now, with the help of Michael Prell and his new book – Underdogma: How America's Enemies Use Our Love for the Underdog to Trash American Power – we now have reason to think twice about this love, and maybe, just maybe, go against intuition and give the top dog (or “overdog,” as he terms them) a little more of our affections, or at least, a little more thought.

The theme of his book, which is revealed and repeated throughout the book is simple: “Underdogma is the reflexive belief that those who have less power are virtuous and noble – because they have less power – and that those who have more power are to be scorned – because they have more power.” Prell does a sound job of making a thought‐provoking case for this theme, though somewhat imbalanced at times (as I explain below). While covering several topics and contexts in the process (e.g. history, media, politics, and religion), he eventually delves into business, specifically marketing and branding to promote his thesis.

He begins the book describing the roots of underdogma. He takes the reader through an example from the Iraq war, where four members of a pro‐Iraq/anti‐Coalition group were kidnapped (and one killed) by the same group they came to support. He then uses this example as well as others to describe why kidnap victims champion their captors and vilify their rescuers in supporting underdogma reflexivity. He serves up several key points, which he supports throughout the book. One point suggests that underdogma bypasses rational thought, while another is that we are not biologically predisposed to having it. Another key idea that he proposes, though contrary to popular belief, is that the underdog is not simply an American phenomenon; it is spread throughout the world (though not everywhere, as I explain later).

Michael Prell definitely has a way of making a sweeping, historic argument compelling. As he explains, underdogs have been with us through time. As early as Cain and Abel, power struggles have arisen. But what happens when the fight for equality is unfounded, unwarranted, or without logic? That is what Prell hits home with his book, showing that fighting against power for the sake of fighting can not only be senseless but also dangerous – impacting us as a society and our children as well.

Another aspect of this book I find absolutely fascinating is how Prell positioned the student protests of the 1960s. I always looked back at those times in great awe, thinking that those who started the original protests against the establishment had a deeper sense of purpose and angst than did following generations. Prell demystifies this assumption, concluding that the fight against the establishment was due more to a privileged generation with more time and money on their hands than a profound cause, so the natural thing to do was to protest against “the man.”

Underdogma takes a stab at the current administration as well, indicating that the reason we as Americans should be concerned with reflexivity in regard to power is that the ideology that drove one to raise a fist against one's oppressor now operates leadership positions, one being the White House – the ultimate power position. As a supporter of the Tea Party, Prell leaves no doubt where he sides politically, which skews the thesis somewhat, perhaps making it less suitable for academic purposes (i.e. marketing), but certainly appropriate for a political science, media, or sociology course.

However, that is not to say there are not business implications. Chapter 9, which is devoted to “selling underdogma,” Prell delves into several interesting examples. He begins with an advertising example of General Motors and how a once dominant company, which presented itself as being big and powerful in the 1920s, is now paying the price for becoming too big. Now, its upstarts (i.e. Toyota and Honda) must put on the breaks as well, lest they, too, want to pay the wrath of underdogma. As Prell indicates, today's corporate leaders must show contrition and humility or risk becoming “corporate sacrifices to the altar of public opinion” (p. 174). Gone are the days, Prell says, that companies should present themselves as big and powerful.

Consumers, according to research cited by Prell, strongly support and identify with brands they perceive as underdogs, so it makes good business sense to use the underdog positioning when promoting one's product. He uses classic campaigns such as Volkwagen's 1959 “Think Small” campaign – which, as he indicates, increased sales of VW Bugs from about 150,000 to a million – to illustrate his point. He also uses several Super Bowl ad examples as proof, including a wildly popular homemade ad for Doritos and another one from Miller High Life called the “Little guys on the big game.”

Prell throws previous assumptions out the door to explain why the top dog, or, as he puts it, the “overdog,” needs more rooting. He seems to suggest that the Wal‐Marts of the world and other big industry need to be lauded more, as hard work, resourcefulness, and pure capitalism are indeed, in Prell's eyes, needed to keep America strong. Ironically, as Prell notes, many politicians demonize Wal‐Mart, though, especially the liberal Democrats, but will shop there nonetheless, as the savings it passes down to its consumers are too good to pass up. As he claims:

This is the power of Underdogma: thousands of people ignoring their rational minds, cheering an Underdogmatist Presidential candidate who demonizes Wal‐Mart, and then stopping at Wal‐Mart on the way home to buy The Audacity of Hope at a good “roll‐back” price (p. 183).

The theoretical proof in this book, though somewhat generalized, is powerful and deep. Using work on empathy, Prell describes how the Chinese in America continue to show solidarity to the brethren back home who are jailed or tortured for minimal and vaguely defined charges. It is the empathy, or the lack thereof, that precludes Chinese from feeling for the comrades who allegedly step out of line. According to the research cited by Prell, Chinese are raised to not feel empathy, and so they show little of it toward dissidents whom the communist Chinese government has rounded up and killed or made disappear. He uses quotes from a notable expert who claims that because China is a collectivist society (as apposed to America, which is individualistic), people have a difficult time conceptualizing the “self,” rendering personal feelings meaningless – the group is more powerful than the individual.

He makes similar empathy cases about radical Islam, suggesting, too, that empathy on America's part can be viewed as a weakness to those raging war against her. In describing the differences between American and radical Islamic culture, Prell deftly uses proverbs to demonstrate the depth of his point. For example, for Islam he uses an Ancient Arab proverb, “A falling camel attracts many knives,” while for the American proverb he uses the following from Matthew 5:5: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the Earth.”

This empathy that Prell says many of us are prone to develop is felt so globally because each of us has felt like an underdog at some point:

The reason we heap scorn on powerful overdogs is because each of us knows what it feels like to live under the thumb, or under the boot, or under the roof, of those who have more power than us (p. 19).

He further quotes motivation speaker Tony Robbins, who suggests that the felt empathy people develop emerges from the dependency we have as children on our parents or those who have more power than us.

A strength of this book is certainly the depth and breadth of the people Prell uses to support his claims. Another strength is not only the deep explanatory basis for his arguments, but how Prell weaves his thesis throughout several contexts, including politics, big business, and international relations. Being a sports fan, though, I would have liked to see more examples in that domain, especially to explain the dying devotion people have toward the Cubs and the Red Sox. Prell does excellent work, though, of shedding light on the “evil empire” (New York Yankees), even suggesting that it is possible for a perennial overdog brand like the Yankees to break the generational cycle of underdogmatist scorn:

All the Yankees have to do is face more powerful opponents, and, better yet, lose to them (p. 51).

Living in the Boston area, I do believe this latter option would be quite popular here.

Perhaps the weakness of this book, though, is its lack of two‐sidedness. There are certainly positives associated supporting underdogs (i.e. compassion, equal chances, power balances) that Prell fails to fully develop. And certainly in many circumstances the support for underdogs comes from careful, deliberate thought, which is not given much credence in this book either.

Nonetheless, Underdogma leaves the reader thinking a little more deeply about the underdogs we support and certainly feeling that bigger is not only better but maybe a little more righteous, too. Go overdog!

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