Yeti: Going For A Bigger Catch

Among sherpas in the Himalayan mountain range, there’s a word that—depending on how superstitious they are—can make a chill go through them like the winter wind at 29,000 feet: yeti. It’s a compound of several Tibetan words used to describe an ape-like creature that supposedly inhabits the Himalayan mountain range in Asia. Permutations of this fearsome (and perhaps imaginary) creature are plentiful. In Siberian culture, he’s known as Chuchuna. British explorer Charles Howard-Bury coined the term “Abominable Snowman” after an Everest expedition in 1920. In his book documenting that expedition, Howard-Bury writes about encountering enormous footprints in the snow that he believed were left by this creature. When asked, his own sherpa was quick to confirm that these prints were left by something locals referred to as the “Wild Man of the Snows.”

Nineteen years ago, the “yeti” name was repurposed by two brothers, Roy and Ryan Seiders, who grew up in Driftwood, Texas. Yeti is a brand with legit DNA. These guys didn’t have to invent a brand story. They lived it. It goes back a generation before Roy and Ryan to their father Roger, who was a bit of a maverick himself. Roger Seiders gave up teaching to become an entrepreneur, inventing Flex Coat—an epoxy sealant for fishing rods in his garage. His sons, who spent the larger portion of their childhoods in the great outdoors, were destined to follow in his footsteps.

Great products achieve greatness because they solve problems. In Yeti’s case, it was coolers. At the time, most coolers on the market were $30 or less and of shoddy construction. In the Texas Gulf, fishermen liked to stand on their coolers when casting. However, these inferior coolers often buckled under their weight. Attending a trade show, the brothers found a more substantial cooler that was manufactured in Thailand. Initially, they became distributors for the product, but believed that they could improve on its quality and design. They found another manufacturer in the Philippines who was willing to make a prototype, and the business was born.

Think that a utilitarian product made to carry, ice, beer, or your catch couldn’t become an item of envy? Well, think again. Among serious outdoorsmen, Yeti has become the Louis Vuitton of coolers. Take their 350 Hard Cooler. It’s more than five feet wide and stands almost two feet tall. This cooler will accommodate either 549 cans of beer or 353 pounds of ice. It comes with add-ons like a security cable lock and bracket ($35) and a pair of bear-proof locks ($30). I’d probably get the security lock package. It’s relatively cheap insurance against theft, because the 350 Hard Cooler retails for a cool $1,500. And about those bear locks? They’re actually certified to be bear-resistant by the Interagency Grizzly Bear Committee, which functions primarily in Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and Washington as a conservancy organization for the U.S. grizzly bear population.

Great product. Great brand story. What’s missing? In my mind, some really great branding ads. I recently watched a twelve-and-a-half-minute video Yeti produced in partnership with Talweg Creative called The Ballad of Pecos Hank. Creatively, it’s an impressive piece that tells the story of a guy who hunts not grizzlies but tornados. In the end, however, it still made me feel like it’s a bit esoteric for Yeti’s core audience–like Twister II Meets No Country for Old Men.

Yeti also was recently awarded a One Show Pencil for its “Every Single Use Campaign.” In various billboard executions, the message is essentially that Yeti’s reusable products (Thermal mugs, bags, etc.) are cutting down on the planet’s plastic waste. It’s a nice gesture. The fact that there could be as much as 200 million tons of discarded plastic floating in our oceans should concern us. And nothing spoils the view of Mt. Rainie on a clear day like half a dozen Dasani bottles littering the trail. But in brand positioning terms, it does nothing to distinguish Yeti from all the other brands out there that are conspicuously wearing their corporate conscience on their sleeves. Neither The Ballad of Pecos Hank nor the “For Every Single Use” campaign get to the heart and soul of the brand.

All this made me remember the spot-on work Leagas Delaney did for Timberland—a once legendary outdoor brand that somehow got hijacked by urban rappers and hip-hoppers. (Seriously, I logged on to their website while writing this manifesto, and my gag reflex was immediately tripped by a homepage ad pushing bright pink Timberland boots (in nubuck and pink patent leather) for Valentine’s Day. (Note to ASAP Rocky: They’ll pair perfectly with your pearl choker.)

Yeti, if you’re out there listening, I have news for you. There’s a deeper dig out there. Creative work that would, like the early Timberland stuff, show that your brand actually has guts. In Jack London’s classic novel The Call of the Wild, he reads the thoughts of his main character—a ranch dog sold into sled dog slavery in Alaska:

“He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.”

That’s the stuff, Yeti. Use London as your inspiration. Then maybe—just maybe—you’ll have a catch that’s worthy of your $1500 cooler.

Are you ready to
dominate your category?