Why are we outraged when food changes?

Herald online·

10 Jun, 2015 10:25 PM4 mins to read

Changing the recipe of a well-loved product can backfire dramatically as many companies have found out. Photos / File, AP, Supplied

Nestle recently "adjusted the vitamins and minerals" in Milo to make it healthier for consumers. This move was met by a great deal of criticism from Milo lovers. The new Milo "sucks" and "is disgusting" wrote aficionados on the "MILO Australia & New Zealand" Facebook page.

It's not Nestle's first offence when it comes to safeguarding the health of its customers. Late last year its "Killer Pythons [were] cut in half to reduce obesity". According to a company spokesperson, "downsizing the pythons was part of a new initiative to get consumers to act more responsibly when it came to their health."

While on one hand the company should be applauded for focusing on health, there's something paternalistic, patronising and, quite possibly, hypocritical about its claim to worry about the wellbeing of its customers even while selling them snake-shaped confectionery.

In the case of Milo, introducing a new and supposedly improved recipe without forewarning consumers was a significant misstep. Nestle clearly underestimated the fondness that Kiwis have for this 80-year-old product.

People were affronted that their beloved Milo taste had changed while the vitamin and mineral content was tweaked. When a brand enjoys a high degree of affection, it risks a lot in tinkering with its offering. Outraged and disgruntled customers are a testament to the affinity they feel for the product in question. When the Milo recipe was changed without consultation or warning, hardcore users justifiably felt betrayed. Did Nestle really think the change in taste would not register with ardent fans?

Nestle New Zealand shrunk its Killer Pythons down to 24g and 336kj per snake. Photo / Creative Commons

The shell of Cadbury Creme Eggs was recently switched from Dairy Milk to a "standard cocoa mix chocolate". This move didn't go down too well either. What is it with confectionery companies and their persistent penchant for perturbing the paying public? A report in The Telegraph opened with the words: "From the reaction of consumers, you would have thought Cadbury had announced it was using rabbit droppings for its Chocolate Buttons and the tears of children to flavour its Crunchie bars." Love it.

So why do people get so upset? They clearly have a connection to the brand concerned and a sense of ownership that develops over time. Manufacturers mess with the product at their peril.

Cadbury's Creme Egg is a popular sweet treat at Easter time. Photo / Janna Dixon

In the UK, Roses chocolates no longer have the old-style individual twisted wrapping.

It's been replaced by "flow wraps" which must be torn rather than twisted open. It's a "step too far" said one "lifelong Cadbury fan". Evidently, complaints from customers that the original wrappings sometimes spontaneously untwisted thus allowing rogue naked chocolates to mingle with the still clad ones drove the decision to switch wrappings. It couldn't possibly be for the purposes of cost savings or production efficiencies. Right? The corporations don't seem to own up to such profit-driven motives.

There might just be one good reason for changing the recipe of a product - and that is to try to make it taste better. Yet even that goal can backfire dramatically as Coca-Cola discovered thirty years ago when it launched "new Coke". The new recipe had performed well in blind taste tests so the risky decision was taken.

Roses chocolates were well-known for their colourful, twisted foil wrappers. Photo / Jason Dorday.

But the new product was not well received. There were complaints. There were protests. There was an uproar. If Twitter had been around in 1985 it would have exploded. Blind taste tests had not captured the bond people had with this popular fizzy drink. Very shortly the company backtracked and announced the return of "Coca-Cola classic". Coca-Cola was more popular than ever and consumers now recognised their fondness for the brand.

This is widely regarded as one of the greatest marketing blunders of all time. However some conspiracy theorists reckon it could have been a roundabout way of strengthening the brand - by intentionally causing outrage, cementing the idea that Coca-Cola is a cherished drink then re-releasing it to a grateful and receptive market. Perhaps the people at Milo are attempting a similar strategy. Will they rush now to heroically restore the old recipe so Kiwis will love Milo for another 80 years? Yeah. Nah. Right now, it's looking more like a blunder than a brainwave to me.