Back In the USSR? We Never Left! By Evelina Yarmit

Sohui Lee

PWR-1SLA-01/02

June 7, 2013

Russia has never opened itself easily. Much like a straw appears to bend in a glass of

water, our image of Russia has been distorted, obscured, and shielded since the Revolution of

1917. It was not too long ago that we waged a war on our own people through McCarthyism, to

prevent Russian infiltration. Yet, the United States and Russia, despite their mutual concealment,

have always maintained important ties, both as enemies, and as friends. Now, a year into Putin’s

third term, it is clear that Russia is changing. In a national interest report, Graham Allison and

colleagues explain why we should care about Russia today. They cite that, “Russia’s

membership in the G8 and the G20 gives it a seat at the table for the most important financial

and economic meetings and deliberations” (Allison. et. al, 10). Therefore, this nation in the

shadows is affecting the global fiscal climate and, in turn, the United States. Moreover, due to a

somewhat sustained demand for commodities such as oil and natural gas, Russia’s economy has

had continued growth since 1998 (“Russia”). But all of this is just the bigger picture of Russia,

and within that large of a frame it would be impossible to truly understand the country

intimately. In the past we have continuously taken a top-down approach to understanding the

Russian psyche and the Russian people. However, I would like to move the opposite way. In

order to answer the question, “who is Russia?” my study focuses on peering at Russia through a

different lens. This lens, of course still distorts the truth, but yet instead of peering from the side

of the glass, I will look through the bottom. Even if we can never see a clear image of Russia, I

at least want to make an effort to examine the funhouse reflection of modern Russian advertising.

Through the use of advertising as a mirror upon Russian culture, we can understand that modern

Russian advertising contains facets of the essence of Russia, and in combination can illuminate

the identity of the nation.

History of Advertising in Russia

It is essential to understand that advertising in Russia is by no means a new institution. In

her comprehensive study, English and Emerging Advertising in Russia, Maria Ustinova provides

an overview on Russian advertising before Perestroika. She mentioned how the first advertising

organization opened in Moscow in 1878, but after the Russian Revolution in 1917, private

business was severely curtailed, and along with it, so was advertising (Ustinova, 267). Ustinova

summarizes that, “the [Soviet] advertising plan was executed by four advertising agencies:

‘‘Soyuztorgreklama’’ (national agency), ‘‘Rostorgreklama’’ (the Russian republic agency),

‘‘Uktorgreklama’’ (the Ukraine republic agency), and ‘‘Vneshtorgreklama’’ which produced

advertisements in foreign languages for foreign-trade organizations” (Ustinova, 267). With these

for branches there was not need or room for advertising towards the consumer. All modes of

consumption and production were state owned. While it is important to note that one of the first,

if not the first, American product shown in the Soviet Union was Pepsi Cola in 1959 (PepsiCo),

most multinationals came to Russia in the 1990’s (Ciochetto, 41).

After several decades of advertising only including political propaganda and state brands,

Mikhail Gorbachev’s Perestroika opened the floodgates for advertising from multinational

corporations. The current advertising climate in Russia would not have been possible without

Mikhail Gorbachev’s Perestroika as according to Irina P. Ustinova’s study “English and

Emerging Advertising in Russia,” without the openness of a market economy advertising would

be unnecessary due to the inherent lack of consumer choice in Russia at the time. Goeffrey

Hosking, in his book Russia and the Russians speaks of how Perestroika created a general easing

for the infiltration of foreign brands, ideas and competition (Hosking, 572). Despite the sudden

newness of capitalism, Russia’s narrative is not one of a traditional emerging market, as even

before 1991, Russians were familiar with Western Culture through movies and television

(Kotkin, 42). In that respect, Russians came into capitalism with a similar background of

skepticism and consumerism that already existed in the capitalist West.

This dichotomy of new wealth and old skepticism, created a difficult market for western

companies to initially penetrate. Ustinova, citing VTSIOM study writes, “The decrease of trust

in advertisements is evident over a few years: 51% of the respondents in 1996, and only 31% in

2000 answered positively to the question whether TV commercials serve as a reliable source of

information about goods and food” (Ustinova, 269). With little understanding of Russian culture

or the target consumer, many companies in the early 90’s, such as Schweppes and Mars,

according to Lynne Ciochetto of the Routledge Studies, “saturated the market with so much

advertising they stimulated a consumer backlash” (Ciochetto, 45). This resulted in shopper

recoil against Snickers, which began to be viewed as an example of a US infiltration of Russia.

Clearly, advertisers had to establish a new approach, one that focused on the particular needs and

cultural eccentricities of the Russian public (ibid.). Advertising companies’ efforts to create a

specifically Russian approach were not in vain. Today, advertising in Russia is a booming,

multinational industry. In 2012 alone, advertising expenditures reached all time highs of $9.24

billion, and are only expected to go up from there, (“Already”). With this increase in advertising

spending, it is clear that the success of international sellers has increased as well. Considering

the success of the specific Russian approach, an examination of advertising can therefore reveal

an equally pointed view of the Russian consumer.

Methodology

My research is not a cumulative effort, but more of a incisive exploration. I will be

qualitatively evaluating a series of case studies, which are modern Russian advertisements. For

each multinational company advertisement, I will compare the advertisement to its American

counterpart from the same company. The comparison is not to use American advertising as a

baseline. Rather, through the comparison, there will be a more concrete and apparent

identification of the specific appeals used by the companies to market towards Russians. I will

use each appeal as an avenue to analyze the reason for its use, and justify it with historical

sources. The advertisements I employed are from different industries and presented by a vast

array of mediums such as billboards or television commercials. My approach is not about

creating a broad image of Russian identity, but is instead an attempt to illuminate small,

particular cultural facets that are still present in the minds of the modern Russian. This method

will show that modern Russian advertisements identify a Russian consumer that while bravely

trudges forth in the newly capitalist society, still clings to elements of an established cultural

past.

Case Study 1: It’s What’s on the Outside that Counts

The infiltration of Western, and particularly American culture featured as a pervasive

obstacle to the continuation of the Socialist dream. Brand names underlined the symbols of both

status within the Soviet society and the freedom without it. In his seminal work on Perestroika,

Armageddon Averted, Stephen Kotkin explains the brand phenomenon in Russia. Kotkin

recounts, “Schoolchildren “ranked” each other by their jeans, with Western brands being the

highest” (Kotkin, 43). Perestroika was a time of openness and of course, greater understanding

of the world outside Russia. Therefore, it does not seem surprising that such knowledge could

create the comparison between what the communist USSR did not have and what the capitalist

USA did. Yet, this basic economic model binary is of the past and Russia can be considered a

now capitalist nation. Modern Russia advertising examples, however, would still present a

reality that places value upon branding in a particularly Russian way—a way tied to the

tumultuous time of Perestroika.

The brand phenomenon of Perestroika can be seen clearly in a recent Starbucks street

campaign, which employs the cultural obsession of brand paraphernalia and acceptance of logo

decoys. This campaign involves the distribution of postcards with Starbucks logos, which can be

then turned into coffee sleeves and placed over non-Starbucks coffee cups, (Figure 2). I have

included an example of the compiled campaign, which includes the advertiser’s explicit

objectives and implementation. Basically, the advertisement tries to convince the consumer to

“upgrade” their coffee for a Starbucks. Objectively, this campaign attempts to raise brand

awareness towards the existence of Starbucks in Russia while simultaneously implanting a sense

of superiority. I will compare the Russian Starbucks advertisement to an American Starbucks

street campaign equivalent in order to specifically identify how the campaign was modified for a

Russian audience (see Figure 1).

Figure 1: Starbucks, New York, USA, March 2010

Figure 2: Starbucks, Russia, August 2012

In contrast to the Russian advertisement, the premise of the American campaign is that

individuals could bring their disposal coffee cups to trade in for renewable mugs in New York

City. Then, artists used the paper cups to create an image of a Sequoia tree, symbolizing what

could be saved if consumers switched to reusable vessels. Ultimately, the campaign was

documented on Facebook and culminated in participants bringing their mugs to Starbucks on

April 15th, Earth Day. In purpose, the American campaign is very similar to the Russian one.

Both promote the brand by giving away something for free, while superimposing the logo on the

giveaway as a public admission of brand loyalty. Each campaign inadvertently uses the

consumer as the marketer and spreads brand awareness without a necessary purchase, while

simultaneously not seeming like a direct advertisement. Yet, despite the similarities, the

approaches still portray vastly different cultural appeals. The American version focuses on

environmental sustainability and acquiring something tangible in return for the trade. The

sustainability comes from the idea that this campaign is for Earth Day as well as highlighting

waste, which arises from disposable coffee cups, (Figure 1). The Russian campaign also has a

tangible exchange. However, this exchange is based on the idea of brand superiority and a

display of a Starbucks sleeve over a different coffee. The actual tangible gift is no more than a

piece of paper, which serves to advertise Starbucks and change the brand of one’s coffee to, at

least according to the campaign, a more desirable one.

According to this disparity within the same brand’s marketing campaigns towards

different countries, Starbucks sees Americans as willing participants for permanent logo based

goods, but Russians as voluntary consumers of surface level decoys. This compliance of brand

decoys naturally stemmed from a want of luxury during the Soviet Union. After Stalin’s reign,

Russia began to see an influx of Western goods. Of course, this supply was mostly attained

through black-market means, and yet, the fashion trends permeated into mainstream society.

Robert Strayer, in his case study on historical change, Why Did the Soviet Union Collapse, says

that, “in the 1970’s. a growing fascination with western popular culture- blue jeans, T-shirts,

plastic shopping bags with foreign logos…challenged official values,” (Stayer, 68). Here he

mentions a small but interesting phenomenon on Russian fashion—that of the foreign shopping

bag used as reusable accessory. Not only were Russians fascinated by foreign culture through

the consumption of foreign products, but also through anything indirectly related to consumption

of these products. My mother, who lived in the USSR from her birth in 1970 until its collapse,

told me about how she would beg her more affluent friends who had traveled overseas to bring

back shopping bags from foreign stores. All the young girls at the time would carry around these

bags as purses.

The trend of foreign shopping bags as fashion statements cannot be viewed as simply an

eccentricity that can be pushed off like Jelly Shoes or snap bracelets. In her touching memoir,

How We Survived Communism and Even Laughed, Croatian writer Slavenka Drakulic talks

about why she and her friends would collect foreign candy wrappers or labeled packages.

Drakulic writes, “everything foreign was more beautifully designed and, surrounded by poverty,

we were attracted to this other, obviously different world” (Drakulic, 187). Here, Drakulic

establishes the communist mindset during that time, with the idolization of foreign goods and

everything related to them. The trends of packaging holding cultural importance continued into

Perestroika as well. In Soviet Hieroglyphs, a series of essays are presented about facets of

Russian society, one of which is Nancy Condee and Vladimir Padunov’s essay on consumerism

during Perestroika. Condee and Padunov write about how once private business and shops were

established, they changed the quality of their bags to reflect competition and luxury (Condee, et

al., 132). Therefore, it is no surprise that Starbucks would use the Russian people as conduits for

promoting their brand, considering the cultural acceptance of carrying logo packaging.

Currently, the Russian people perhaps are no longer enamored with simply disposable brand

named wrappings. The economy has evolved to the point that the same users who are carrying

fake Starbucks sleeves can afford the real coffee. Still, the notion that Starbucks’ advertising

technique is both acceptable and possible could not be outside the context of a culture where

only 30 years prior these printed sleeve would have been fashion statements.

Case Study 2: Now we can Laugh

This second case study will focus on an established brand attempting to change its image

through the use of Russian humor and nostalgia. In order for these appeals to make sense, it is

first important to lay the context of luxury goods in Russia. During Perestroika and after the fall

of the USSR, the economy was rapidly shifting from state-owned to privatized. Such a shift

presented tumultuous consequences. Most tangibly, rising prices, due to the opportunity of

economic profit, impoverished many citizens and stripped them of buying power. Geoffrey

Hosking, who I mentioned earlier, describes that, “accumulated savings were soon wiped out-

faster than in Germany after the First World War” (Hosking, 598). Therefore, despite the new

economic reforms, luxury goods in Russia were still almost as hard to obtain as during Soviet

power. These factors are important to consider when viewing the following television

commercial of Mars Bars, which connects with the consumer through showing how long Mars

has been in Russia. We see a little girl, in 1990, eating Mars, talking about what she wants in the

future. Things she imagines herself having include: fashionable Lurex jackets, a businessman

husband, and of course unlimited Mars Bars (Figure 4.1). The commercial ends with her

present day self, who is now a successful modern woman. She shakes off her former dreams and

walks away from the memory while still eating a Mars Bar (4.2). The message of the

advertisement is that even when everything changes, Mars is always desirable. In terms of

humor, that advertisement makes fun of the childish aspirations of Russians at the beginning of

Perestroika. Basically, the advertisement says that “now we know better, now we know what

success is, and ‘Mars Bars” are still a part of that.”

The comparative American advertisement I am using is one of M&M candy, also by the

Mars Corporation. Unfortunately, “Mars Bars” are not advertised in the United States and

therefore I had to rely on a different Mars product. This commercial is of a brown M&M

depicted as female, talking to attractive women at a party. The candy piece is portrayed as

intelligent, as she is wearing glasses while speaking about her conversation with a prime

minister. We see cut shots to men watching the conversation and snickering. The women

surrounding the candy explain to her that because she is a brown M&M, the men believe she is

naked. In fact, her coating is just the same color as the chocolate inside of her. Obviously the

M&M becomes indignant at the claim, but then looks over at a male red M&M who walked in.

He sees the brown M&M, also thinks she’s naked, and takes off his red coating, which actually

renders him naked and begins dancing. The advertisement conveys that M&M’s are a fun snack.

However, it also plays on the notion that men are mostly stupid and impulsive creatures, while

women are level-headed and aloof. The humor is vulgar and goofy, appealing to both older

children and American adults alike (Figure 3).

Figure 3: Mars Corporation. USA. 2012. TV

Figure 4.1. Mars Corporation. Russia. 2011. TV

Figure 4.1: Mars Corporation. Russia. 2011. TV

The major difference between these advertisements is the use of humor and national

specificity. The American commercial portrays an awkward but goofy situation, while

simultaneously showing intelligent women and men who are baffoons. The Russian humor is

self-deprecating, with a constant reference back towards itself and the Russian past. In order to

understand the interesting nature of this appeal, it is important to clarify the context of the Mars

Corporation in Russia. Chocolate was one of the most heavily advertised industries after Russia

first opened its gates to international brands. I already spoke about the Snickers fiasco, which

turned the Mars Corporation into a symbol of American infiltration. The image of the Mars

Corporation was one of want and involuntary Americanization. This context makes the Russian

advertisement all the more surprising, since it appears that the company is attempting to create

false memories of Russianness through the commercial. Not all the implications in the

advertisement are false. The reality is that the Mars Corporation has been in Russia since 1990,

and with that it has witnessed the country’s struggle with scarcity and success in stability

(Ciochetto, 45). What is interesting is that Mars uses the appeal of historical humor even if the

real history of Mars is not particularly flattering to the company.

The humor in this advertisement works with two Russian cultural realities. One is that of

the anekdot or short funny story. The other reality is the Russian historical nostalgia, where due

to the importance of nationalist identity, companies attempt to connect themselves with the

Russian people. I will first speak of the cultural staple known as the anekdot. In his book on

Perestroika, Everything was Forever Until it was No More, Alexei Yurchak examines bottom-up

societal facets to explain the fall of the Soviet Union. One of these facets is the anekdot, which

he defines as, “a short, formulaic joke that can be repeated by different people in different

contexts” (Yurchak, 273). However, an anekdot is more than simply a joke, as at least in the

Russian perception, it contains derisive or political humor. Yurchak remarks that during

Perestroika, new anekdoty (plural form) were not created, perhaps due to less of a need for

stealthy political dissidence (Yurchak, 276). I disagree with the simplicity of this reasoning, and

posit that to create a Perestroika anekdot, a time for reflection was necessary, a time that has now

passed.

Through an analysis of the Mars advertisement, it actually appears that they are creating a

Perestroika anekdot for the present Russian generation. The particular type of anekdot depicted is

one where the initial idealist believes one thing about the future, but looking back later realizes

they were wrong. Yurchak writes about the anekdot that it worked by, “engaging with

discontinuities of the whole discursive regime and with one’s participation in them” (Yurchak,

281). With that lens we can now see the little girl in the advertisement with her newly found

capitalist wants, that of fashionable clothes, a businessman husband, and of course Mars candy,

as a symbol of the hopeful Russian society going into capitalism. This of course is the set up to

the punchline, of the modern Russian woman who looks back at her former self, with the only

continuity being the constant desirability of the candy. The joke lies in both the incorrectness of

the dream and its innocence, while simultaneously maintaining the Russianness of both. In

terms of incorrectness it parallels the anekdoty about the hopes for communism versus the

realities, which is the subject of a large amount of the anekdoty during Soviet times (Yurchak,

280). The innocence is also humorous as it parallels many American girls’ dreams of growing

up to be a princess. In contrast to the American dream, the Russian girl dreams of being a

capitalist princess, with all the luxuries enjoyed in the West and a prince who is a businessman.

Still the new anekdot, while maintaining ties to the past, casts the advertisement’s Russianness in

a modern light, showing the establishment of capitalism in the nation. The woman in the final

scene bears no marks that would indentify her as anything but a modern woman in a capitalist

nation, and the surrounding environment indicates an advanced country that is moving towards

economic prominence.

The aspect of Russianness as it relates to the each individual component of humor,

innocence, and incorrectness is a very important appeal for large companies such as Mars. To

clarify, each case study does of course attempt to identify with the Russian consumer in uniquely

Russian ways. However, this particular commercial actually physically placed the viewer back

into the Russian past—in affect, Mars employed nostalgia. The application of nostalgia is Mars’

attempt to reverse the ill will, which followed the company after its initial entrance into the

Russian market. Jeremy Morris, in this study of on Russian advertising by Russian companies

“The Empire Strikes Back” summarizes Fillip Aleksandrov’s (a Russian advertising theorist)

argument on Nostalgia. Morris writes, “nostalgia in advertising has, as Aleksandrov argues,

attained the equivalence of fairy tale: it refers to a mythic past, it retains utopian distance from

the present, masking the reality of the changes since 1991 and thus providing a measure of

psychological compensation” (Morris, 650). The nostalgia that Aleksandrov writes about is

specifically Russian, in that it is not about remembering good times, but restructuring them.

Much like the anekdot is a practice in deprecation but also appreciation of cultural history;

Russian nostalgia reframes the present through a re-imagining of the past. In the case of the Mars

commercial, the nostalgia overwrites negative associations with the Mars brand and instead

allows the Russian consumer to believe Mars has been a company intrinsically tied with

Russianness all along.

Case Study 3: The Culture of Being Cultured

I have already established the context of Russia’s Perestroika as it relates to the

importance of brands, but also the way it is ripe for brand fragility. My final case study moves

away from the reality of brand identity in Russia. It does not play up upon the fetishization of

Western logos, or the re-appropriated image of a once reviled company. Rather this final

example instead exploits a core Russian value to mold a consumer towards a once unheard of

product. For my last analysis, I will analyze how Sony markets its eReader not as a hot new

gadget, but rather an essential product for the continuation of an old necessity—kulturnost.

Before expanding on the meaning of kulturnost, I will first present the juxtaposition of

the American Sony advertisement (see Figure 5) and the Russian Sony advertisement (see Figure

6). As with the previous comparisons I want to show the different approach that Sony specifies

towards Russia, and explain the subsequent Russian cultural appeal that marks the difference.

The American advertisement goes for a controversial message. Visually, it is innocent enough,

presenting the new eReader leaning against a stack of books. However, the text is much

raunchier. Underneath the image the advertisement reads, “Sexier than a librarian (your librarian

may vary)” (Figure 5). The appeal is one of mild shock value. On the surface it touches upon

the cultural sexual trope for librarians that appears in a variety of films and television shows.

Simultaneously, the advertisement implies that now with the eReader, going to the library is

unnecessary, subtly inserting the purpose of the eReader, which replaces written text and

consequently, the librarian. The advertisement’s image also place the eReader in front of the

books, in order to assert its dominance and show the features included.

The Russian Sony advertisement for the eReader contains no sexual or cheeky elements,

rather a sophisticated visual which describes the importance of reading. Instead of the self-

explicable image of a pile of books and the product, we see a large tree that appears to be

fragmented. Upon closer inspection one can see that the tree itself is actually made of individual

books. Unlike the bold centered white text in the American advertisement, the Russian example

contains a small script at the bottom right corner, so that the whole focus can be on the image.

However, the viewer will not overlook the script considering that it provides the context for the

image, and the diagonally placed tree acts as a vector to lead to eye to the text. This all-

important caption reads, “An educated person reads one tree of books per year. Switch to E-

Books” (Figure 6). First of all, it is crucial to note that while this advertisement is selling the

eReader, as is evident by the image of the reader on the lower right; nowhere does it mention the

product by name. Also, the appeal from the caption is not one that describes the specs of the

eReader, or its sexy look (in fact this advertisement is very tame compared to the American one)

but instead, emphasizes the importance of being educated. The product is not about transferring

one’s casual hobby of reading; rather Sony argues that the eReader will facilitate a consumer’s

position and pride through a certain level of personal education.

Figure 3: Sony. USA. 2009. Billboard

.

Figure 4: Sony. Russia. May 2012. Print

Sony’s appeal is essentially one of guilt, the guilt of lacking the Russian necessity of

kulturnost. The guilt appeal is present because the consumer will certainly not feel as if he reads

one tree of books per year, especially if he is measuring himself by the tree growing towards

infinity in the advertisement. Therefore, he or she will feel guilty about their lack of personal

initiative to be considered educated. Clearly, the American advertisement uses no guilt tactics,

only encouragement to buy the product through evidence of convenience, and a little humorous

delivery. Since I have already mentioned it a few times I will now define kul’turnost. To

explain the historical background of the Sony advertisement, I will be drawing upon Jane

Zavisca’s study, “The Status of Cultural Omnivorism: A Case Study of Reading in Russia.”

Zavisca defines kul’tronost as, “the state of being cultured” and that reading is essential to this

state (Zavisca , 1237). After Stalin, reading and maintaining book collections became evidence

of being a cultured person. Middle class families during Soviet times would hoard and display

books in their living rooms in order to signify social status. This high opinion of reading

possibly stemmed from, “party propaganda equat[ing] education, urban residence, and

professionalism with being cultured, and state policies encouraged stratified cultural

consumption according to education, occupation, party rank, gender, and region” (Zavisca,

1237). The importance of this stratification and the maintenance of upper cultural appearances

and thereby upper status made sense during a time when high economic levels were reserved for

only party officials. Under the Soviet Union people could not be judged through their bank

accounts, but definitely by their bookshelves.

In this context, it may therefore appear that the Sony advertisement is playing upon high

status individuals that maybe lost their kul’turnost. The oligarchs that populate the market still

would need to be educated to be deemed of high class by society, much like the new money

businessmen in the United States are encouraged to experience classical music, fine wine, and

art. While this guilt appeal might be true, I see Sony not picking their consumer between the rich

or the middle class, but rather taking the proverbial fork in the road and eating with it. Zavisca

summarizes the current Russian cultural stratification through reading with the following

passage:

The recent, drastic impoverishment of much of the population---particularly the soviet

“mass intelligentsia” of teachers, doctors, scientists and engineers---threatens their sense

of status as well as living standards. New entrepreneurs, on the other hand, suffer social

disdain in a society that remains deeply suspicious of wealth. Economic successes in the

market economy brings higher living standards, but it does not readily convert into status

honor (Zavisca, 1234).

It is clear that while the intelligentsia class is suffering economically, they are better off

culturally than the newly rich. Therefore, Sony has perfectly crafted their advertisement to the

new capitalist reality of modern Russia while deeply rooting themselves in Soviet tradition.

With their guilt appeal, Sony can both target the continuous reading necessity of the

intelligentsia class to maintain its cultural status, and simultaneously shaming the rich consumer

for their lack of kul’turnost.

The Reality of this Essay: How Big is the Grain of Salt

It can be easy to discount the conclusions reached through my line of inquiry with a

simple mention of quantity. I did indeed only use three Russian advertisements and their

American counterparts as case studies. Still, I believe that the deductions obtained from these

advertisements are still valuable. The underlying assumption of my work is that the purpose of

each appeal used in an advertisement is to better sell that product to a consumer base. This

means that the appeal also indicates something about who the consumer is and what they value.

For these reasons, I chose advertisements from large, successful, and prominent companies in the

Russian market. Starbucks continues to grow the popularity if its coffee, Mars is one of the

largest food companies in Russia, and Sony maintains a powerful presence in the technology

sector. Due to the success of these companies and their experience in other countries, the

approach they take is quite sophisticated. Therefore, if Soviet cultural roots are present in all of

their advertisements, it can be considered more than mere coincidence, and an actual shared

understanding of a the Russian consumer audience. Each company is aware of the history they

are using as an appeal, and therefore by working backwards, we can be aware of this history as

well.

Also, I am in no way declaring this study as the end of the road. Unfortunately, the

plagues of source availability, time, and resources harped upon my research. I can simply hope

to have opened up an interesting path of inquiry towards modern Russian advertising.

Additionally, I wish to present Russia in the light of a complicated historical economy, not just a

classic emerging market. Perhaps my emphasis on the present importance of Russia’s past can

shape a future research perspective. Furthermore, my research is not the only evidence that

shows that Russia is continuously touched by its Soviet past. The continual issues of

infrastructure, industry, and politics are directly stemmed from the not too distant history of the

USSR. However, instead of taking the top-down approach of the USSR’s modern narrative, I

attempted to show its existence through the three contemporary advertisement case studies.

The Future of the Past

Unfortunately, Russia is not a person. We cannot sit her down, ask how she is feeling,

and what is on her mind. No, Russia is a vast nation, a fortress even, of immense political and

economic importance to both the United States and the rest of the world. Still, despite the

abstractness of the concept and the distortion of our lenses, the Russian people themselves can be

revealed slowly and patiently, perhaps one study at a time. The studies I used were

advertisements, one of the most important and yet imperfect mirrors of any capitalist society. In

order to sell their product, the company must know their consumer. Starbucks knows that Russia

has a historical obsession with foreign logos. But more importantly, Russians are willing to

carry shells of the luxurious things they desire, which creates a cheap and effective campaign.

Mars knows that Russians love a good joke, or anekdot, where they can laugh at themselves and

what they used to want. But also, Mars transformed this anekdot from not just a humorous

appeal, but to one of the highly valued idea of Russian nostalgia. And finally, Sony knows that

no matter what economic position a Russian finds himself in, he still desires to be thought of as a

highly cultured person from reading books.

Despite the intimacy the companies have with Russia’s past, they also know something

else. Each company knows that Russia is moving forward. The economy has produced

billionaires and the binary between American capitalism and Soviet communism has been

dismantled. The Russian consumer is as sophisticated and skeptical as the American one, but

despite this, they do not want to be treated like Americans. Instead, as Russia moves forward it

also looks backward, towards itself, its history, and its specific values. Perhaps in the case of

Russia, a constant reference of the past is as close as we can get to seeing the straw in the glass.

Maybe the goal is not to remove the straw, but understand the water that surrounds it.