In a New York Times review of the exhibit, “Chemistry, Authenticity and the Meaning of Art,” Michael Kimmelman focuses on “The Allegory”, a painting thought to be by Botticelli when it was acquired over a century ago. Critics immediately decried it as a fake, but after decades in storage the Gallery examined it again — closely — and determined it wasn’t a fake. It may not be a Botticelli, but it is an original from that timeframe.

Kimmelman then wonders how much that matters: “It’s a picture. And the picture is the same whether it is said to be old or new, genuine or fake, an original or a copy. It becomes no more or less elegant or funny looking. Its role in the evolving narratives of art history changes. Its price can go up or down. But cost is not value.” And he finds value in this particular painting, for “It’s beautiful.”

The same is true of business offerings. Whether old or new, genuine or fake, an original or a copy — or, to put it another way, whether Real-real, Real-fake, Fake-real, or even Fake-fake — some customers may find your offerings of value,  perhaps even beautiful. It may be too late to render your offerings fully Real-real, so find those customers who, when they examine your economic output — closely — find the value within.

Great question, that. In direct reference to Starbucks, Jim and I state on the second page of the book that “nothing kills authenticity like ubiquity” and go on to note, “The success of Starbucks no longer depends on its operational prowess or taste superiority; it lies solely in sustaining coffee drinkers’ perception of the Starbucks experience as authentic.”

So how did Mr. Schultz reply? “You have to have a 100% belief in your core reason for being. . . . You can’t get out of this by trying to navigate with a different road map, one that isn’t true to yourself. You have to be authentic, you have to be  true, and you have to believe in your heart that this is going to work.”

This venti, nonfat, 6-pump, extra hot Tazo Chai Tea drinker wishes him well.

In “Voyage to the Bottom of the Day Care Center“, The New York Times reviewer first of all sings the movie’s praises (as does this AuthenticityBook.com reviewer, who saw it on opening night in 3D with no kids in tow), calling it “as sweet, as touching, as humane a movie as you are likely to see this summer, and yet it is all about doodads stamped and molded out of plastic and polyester.”

Think about that for a moment: this is a fictional movie that is an animation about toys that come to life when humans aren’t looking. It is therefore all the more amazing when Scott says next: “Therein lies its genius, and its uncanny authenticity. A tale that captured the romance and pathos of the consumer economy, the sorrows and pleasures that dwell at the heart of our materialist way of life, could only be told from the standpoint of the commodities themselves, those accretions of synthetic substance and alienated labor we somehow endow with souls.” Such is the essence of rendering.

Joe Morgenstern also refers to the number one consumer sensibility over at The Wall Street Journal in his review, “An Ode to ‘Toy‘”, where he says, “It’s possible that nothing could have matched the authentic heartbreak of Buzz Lightyear’s earlier discovery that he is not a real space ranger on an alien planet but a piece of plastic powered by batteries and made in Taiwan. (If you want to know what superlative storytelling looks, sounds and feels like, there’s a scene to study.)”

Again, think about that for a moment: the authentic heartbreak of a come-to-life toy who discovers he’s not a real space ranger in an animated movie made with the height of computer technology and shown in artificial 3D.

That such scenes in such movies inspire such odes to authenticity demonstrates the power of referential authenticity — and the genius of Pixar, not only one of the best experience stagers in the world, but thanks to its RenderMan software, one of the best a rendering authenticity as well.

Consider British Petroleum — or BP p.l.c. as it is now named. Two years after it bought Amoco and renamed itself in 1998, it launched a series of advertising campaigns to the effect that its initials stood for “Beyond Petroleum.” These ads trumpeted BP’s investments in solar, wind, and hydrogen energy (and even not-so-green-but-at-least-it’s-not-oil natural gas) — all the while continuing and even bolstering its investments in oil extraction in such places as the Arctic Refuge and making  relatively minuscule investments in so-called “green energy.” The campaign was met with near-universal skepticism; a Fortune article on the $174 billion company put it, “If the world’s second-largest oil company is beyond petroleum, Fortune is beyond words.”

By late 2005, however, one commentator could remark, “reality seems to be closing in on perception.” Among other successes, BP lowered emissions of greenhouse gases, launched the BP Alternative Energy unit, and saw its Solar unit take 10 percent of the global market and turn a profit for the first time. The company encountered a series of calamities, however. In 2004, an accident at a Texas oil refinery killed two workers — and six months later an explosion killed fifteen at the same refinery. In early 2006, a pipeline in Alaska spilled over 200,000 gallons of oil, while in August the company had to shut down its Prudhoe Bay facilities after discovering extensive corrosion in its pipeline system. Also that year the U.S. Labor Department fined BP $2.4 million for “unsafe operations” at an Ohio refinery; the Justice Department, meanwhile, alleged that traders for the company illegally manipulated the propane market, and then a billion-dollar platform in the Gulf of Mexico didn’t hold up during Hurricane Dennis. Once again environmentalists, among many others, questioned the company’s  motives. Business columnist Joe Nocera put it point-blank: “It’ll be a long time before anyone believes anything BP has to say about its environmental sensitivity.” Remember how easy being perceived as phony is when you advertise what you are not.

Where does the blame lie? Is BP’s strategic intention of going “beyond petroleum,” put in place by former chairman Lord John Browne, outside the limits of its execution zone? Is its body of values — or perhaps even its essence of enterprise — at odds with that intention? Or is it simply execution? Craig Smith of the London Business School answers that one: “What we are  seeing is not a failure of strategy but of execution.” The company itself concurs, making “Executing more effectively” one of four key steps it outlines in its 2006 Annual Report. Even if you affix a future firmly within the limits of what is possible-and we think BP has not yet made its case; it should have waited to proclaim itself Beyond Petroleum until it could at least see that point in its strategic horizon on — you still must execute, and execute well. 

Comment #1: Now everyone knows BP is not beyond petroleum.
Comment #2: It’s problem still lies in execution.