January 2008

World of Webkinz

By In Branding

Webkinz, the little stuffed animal toys which may be activated through a code to enter the on-line Webkinz world, are drawing more and more children and tweens into the realm of virtual reality. In the past, many companies have been reluctant to charge children for website access for fear of alienating parents. But the Toronto based Canadian company Ganz may have solved this problem through the powerful brand that is the Webkinz cuddly toy and on-line environment.

Visitors to the free Webkinz website  spent more than one million hours there in November, with the average child clocking up an average of two hours per visit. However, in order to fully access the Webkinz world, parents must pay approximately $15 for a Webkinz real-world pet toy which children may then “adopt” and care for on-line. Users give each toy a gender and a name and can spend “kinz cash” to buy food, clothes and furniture or even to take neglected pets to a virtual doctor.

Ganz have now launched a line of accessories such as cosmetics and clothing items with codes that redeem a prize for the pets’ on-line avatars in order to ensure that the company capitalizes on children’s web time.

Judging A Wine By Its Label: A Trademark Issue

By In Case Law, Registration, Trademark Oppositions

In Sociedad Agricola Santa Teresa Ltda. et al. v. Vina Leyda Limitada, the Federal Court considered what constitutes a place of origin for wine such that the place name cannot be registered as a trademark. At issue was section 12(1)(b) of the Canadian Trade-marks Act which states that a trademark is not registrable if it is “clearly descriptive or deceptively misdescriptive” of the “place of origin” of the wares or services.

Vina Leyda Limitada applied in 2001 to register LEYDA as a trademark and on the evidence before the Registrar in an opposition to such application, the Registrar allowed the application. The Sociedad appealed the Registrar’s decision under section 56 of the Act.

The Court allowed the appeal and held that LEYDA could not be registered. According to Harrington J., “Once the Registrar found as a fact, as he did, that Leyda is a wine producing region in Chile, as a matter of law he was required to conclude on the record before him that the opposition was well founded.” Of concern was the fact that if the registration stood the applicants, wine producers from the Leyda Valley, would not be able to refer to that fact on their labels or in their promotional literature and might be limited to calling their wine Chilean red or white. The judge also noted that “producers from a specific region want to promulgate their area in the belief that their wine is superior to the wine of that country as a whole”. A general appellation could lead a consumer to believe a wine is “plonk”.

In reaching his decision Harrington J. relied on a 1970 Supreme Court of Canada decision, Home Juice Co. v. Orange Maison Ltee, for the proposition that “a shrewd trader should not be permitted to monopolize the name of a foreign wine district in Canada by registering it as a trademark”. He also distinguished Prosciutto di Parma v. Maple Leaf Meats Inc. in which the Federal Court of Appeal refused to expunge the trademark PARMA since it had been used in Canada for 39 years and registered for 26. LEYDA had not been in use in association with wine in Canada at the time the application was filed.

On an appeal under section 56 the parties may introduce evidence that was not before the Registrar and the Sociedad put forward that “Vallee de Leyda” was an appellation of origin in Chile. This evidence was taken into account, but Harrington J. specifically noted that whether a name signifies a geographical area under section 12 of the Act and whether that area produces wine are not contingent upon a governement decree.

Finally, it is worth noting that Harrington J. may very well know something about wine. He not only references the origin of the word “plonk” (“There are different legends as to the origin of the word ‘plonk’. The one I prefer is that a Monsieur Plonque was the purveyor of cheap wine to British Troops in World War I.”), but he also begins his reasons stating, “One may not be able to judge a book by its cover, but one should know something about a bottle of wine from its label; the more the better.”

Turning Over A New …Sheaf?

By In Branding

Thanks for the warm welcome, all. For my first post, I thought it apropos to cover a story originating in the province of my birth, Saskatchewan.

A recent attempt by Saskatchewan’s new government to introduce a new provincial logo clearly demonstrates the need to have a clear and coherent branding strategy in place before rushing headlong down the path to change.

In early December, members of the province’s governing party, the Saskatchewan Party, announced their intention to change the province’s logo. In a move reminiscent of the Tory’s adoption of the Canada’s New Government slogan shortly after they took power in 2006, Saskatchewan’s new government decided that the iconic wheat sheaf symbol had to go. Deputy Premier Ken Krawetz criticized the logo, calling it “dated” and claiming it was no longer an accurate reflection of the province and its broad-based economic boom. (The logo was originally introduced by an NDP-led government under Allen Blakeney in the 1970s, though public notice of the province’s adoption of the sheaf was not issued until 1982.)

In a somewhat curious twist, Krawetz did not introduce a replacement for the sheaf; instead, he urged government ministries to use the province’s shield of arms or its coat of arms until a new logo was developed. Ironically, these marks each prominently depict three wheat sheaves.

However, Krawetz’s announcement was met with, to put it lightly, something less than broad-based enthusiasm. Despite a few local newspaper editorials plugging the proposal, it appeared Saskatchewanians were wildly unenthused by the change. Local call-in shows and newspaper editorial boards were flooded by citizens attached to the dear olde sheaf and unhappy with the use of their tax dollars to fund the new logo. (Some citizens, however, took the opportunity to take logo lemons and make lemonaid, proposing that a new au courant logo might include a genetically modified wheat sheaf, a nuclear power reactor, or a Saskatchewan Roughrider puffing a cigar. Personally, I’ve always been partial to this mark but admittedly, it may not be appropriate for the Premier’s letterhead.)

Five days later, after all of the wheat sheaf images were removed from the Government of Saskatchewan’s website, the government succumbed to public pressure and announced it had decided not to change the logo, at least for now. In a confusing and inadvertently humorous news release titled “Wheat Sheaf Logo To Be Retained: New Saskatchewan Government Listens To Public”, Krawetz stated that while he understood some Saskatchewanians were against the change, the logo change had never been a governmental priority, and that for those who oppose changing, it’s not really a matter of whether or not they like the wheat sheaf logo. It was a question of priorities. Whatever that means.

In any event, this story illustrates that altering a brand is a big step that should not be undertaken lightly, particularly when that brand includes a prominent symbol historically associated with the hopes and dreams of an entire province.