William Neuheisel

Yesterday, the Wall Street Journal posted an article about the legal battle being waged by Susan G. Komen For the Cure against smaller nonprofits who it feels are infringing on its name and branding elements.

As the leading breast-cancer charity, Susan G. Komen For the Cure helped make “for the cure” a staple of the fund-raising vernacular.

The slogan is so popular that dozens of groups have sought to trademark names incorporating the phrase. Among them are “Juggling for a Cure,” “Bark for the Cure,” and “Blondes for the Cure.”

Komen sees this as imitation, and it’s not flattered. Instead, it’s launching a not-so-friendly legal battle against kite fliers, kayakers and dozens of other themed fund-raisers that it contends are poaching its name. And it’s sternly warning charities against dabbling with pink, its signature hue.

These incidents, and some of the comments on Twitter supportive of them, for me highlight a trend that has been too prominent in the nonprofit sector: taking the same mistaken approach to “branding” that we’ve seen in the business world.

It would be unfair to single out and scapegoat Susan G. Komen For the Cure—this sort of mindset is found to varying degrees throughout the sector. But this case is instructive and should be highlighted as an example of what not to do.

The foundation feels that it owns the symbol of the pink ribbon, that particular shade of pink, and the words “for the cure.” I wonder if their supporters would see it that way? Was it that particular hue of pink that made them donate? Maybe for some, but I’d bet most became supporters because breast cancer had made a very personal impact on their lives.

For them, the issue is bigger than Susan G. Komen Foundation. It is about preventing the suffering of our sisters and mothers and daughters and friends at the hands of this disease.

A pink ribbon or t-shirt is a very personal expression to honor loved ones and demonstrate our shared support for finding a cure. It is not about displaying loyalty to a particular organization.

This distinction is important. The pink ribbon should be about giving people a common voice, empowering them to share their personal stories of survival or loss with each other and to rally our communities. When the foundation shifts its focus to aggressively “protecting its assets,” it has already put itself out of touch with that purpose.

Would supporters be happy that lawyers are being hired instead of researchers? Do they care which particular organization funds the research “for the cure?”

There is legitimacy in preventing outright impersonation by other organizations to avoid mistaken donations, but Komen is going beyond that. Is anyone going to mistakenly donate to a lung cancer organization simply because they saw the words “for the cure?”

Komen’s actions could lead one to ask who they are really acting on behalf of here: the mission of their supporters, or their own ability to cause market for corporations with pink products?

There may be some cost in lost donations to these other groups, but what will be the cost when supporters see Komen starting petty fights over a color or a phrase?

This kind of thinking will eventually lead nonprofits to the same hollow mass marketing practices that irked the authors of The Cluetrain Manifesto. In same way that corporate branding makes us passive consumers, cause branding prevents participation in real conversations about critical social issues.