When protesters in West Hollywood dumped bottles of Stolichnaya in the gutter, they could not have had a more eager ally against Moscow than Kaspars Zalitis, a gay rights advocate in Latvia.
Until Mr. Zalitis discovered to his dismay that Stolichnaya is not made in Russia but in his hometown Riga, the capital of Latvia, which became independent from Russia more than two decades ago.
Hmmm.
So the boycott promoted by the gay group Queer Nation, far from hurting Russia, ended up hurting Latvia.
Stolichnaya has strenuously objected to being characterized as a Russian company (see video below).
Val Mendeleev, the Russian-born CEO of SPI Group that controls the Stoli brand, said to The New York Times that Stolichnaya is not a Kremlin ally at all and that "you will not hurt Russia by dumping Stoli."
Queer Nation countered that the boycott is aimed as all Russian vodkas, and "because Stolichnaya is a Russian vodka that is made by a Russian company, it is also an appropriate target."
To be fair, the exact national identity of Stolichnaya is hard to define. It used to be made in Russia and merely bottled in Riga, but in recent years it has been filtered and blended in Latvia.
Its water comes from Latvian springs. But its main ingredient, raw alcohol distilled from grain, still comes from Russia.
Its bottles are from Poland and Estonia, and its caps from Italy.
But that matters little in the public mind. The boycotters came across as ethnocentric and ignorant. The lesson: you must do your homework before you take action across cultures.
When I moved to India in 1987 to consult with the CEO of an organization there, I did not do my homework. I flew blind, and made just about every mistake in the book. It took me months to recover.
I learned my lesson. When I was invited to Kazakhstan to work with its prime minister and cabinet in 2007, I prepared systematically.
I interviewed people who knew that culture. I read up on the country's founders, heroes, villains and defining moments on Wikipedia and Wikitravel, matching everything I learned against the intercultural tools in my own book "Culture Clash," namely the Global Leader Pyramid(tm) and the Global Integrator(tm).
I even learned to say a phrase in Kazakh: "I am sorry that I do not speak Kazakh. Thank you for listening in English." The next day, in the workshop, that phrase landed me a standing ovation by the assembled government.
What do you say? Is the boycott of Stolichnaya justified or not? And what culture clashes did you experience, and what are your best (and worst) practices? I look forward to reading you on my blog: http://thomaszweifel.blogspot.com/.
P.S. To learn more about avoiding cross-cultural fiascos (including hilarious cross-cultural jokes), check out Culture Clash 2 (SelectBooks, 2013). Or visit Manres.com for more tools.
Until Mr. Zalitis discovered to his dismay that Stolichnaya is not made in Russia but in his hometown Riga, the capital of Latvia, which became independent from Russia more than two decades ago.
Hmmm.
So the boycott promoted by the gay group Queer Nation, far from hurting Russia, ended up hurting Latvia.
Stolichnaya has strenuously objected to being characterized as a Russian company (see video below).
Val Mendeleev, the Russian-born CEO of SPI Group that controls the Stoli brand, said to The New York Times that Stolichnaya is not a Kremlin ally at all and that "you will not hurt Russia by dumping Stoli."
Queer Nation countered that the boycott is aimed as all Russian vodkas, and "because Stolichnaya is a Russian vodka that is made by a Russian company, it is also an appropriate target."
To be fair, the exact national identity of Stolichnaya is hard to define. It used to be made in Russia and merely bottled in Riga, but in recent years it has been filtered and blended in Latvia.
Its water comes from Latvian springs. But its main ingredient, raw alcohol distilled from grain, still comes from Russia.
Its bottles are from Poland and Estonia, and its caps from Italy.
But that matters little in the public mind. The boycotters came across as ethnocentric and ignorant. The lesson: you must do your homework before you take action across cultures.
When I moved to India in 1987 to consult with the CEO of an organization there, I did not do my homework. I flew blind, and made just about every mistake in the book. It took me months to recover.
I learned my lesson. When I was invited to Kazakhstan to work with its prime minister and cabinet in 2007, I prepared systematically.
I interviewed people who knew that culture. I read up on the country's founders, heroes, villains and defining moments on Wikipedia and Wikitravel, matching everything I learned against the intercultural tools in my own book "Culture Clash," namely the Global Leader Pyramid(tm) and the Global Integrator(tm).
I even learned to say a phrase in Kazakh: "I am sorry that I do not speak Kazakh. Thank you for listening in English." The next day, in the workshop, that phrase landed me a standing ovation by the assembled government.
What do you say? Is the boycott of Stolichnaya justified or not? And what culture clashes did you experience, and what are your best (and worst) practices? I look forward to reading you on my blog: http://thomaszweifel.blogspot.com/.
P.S. To learn more about avoiding cross-cultural fiascos (including hilarious cross-cultural jokes), check out Culture Clash 2 (SelectBooks, 2013). Or visit Manres.com for more tools.
No comments:
Post a Comment