“Vile!” said the man.
He was one of a dozen focus-group members trying a new beverage product. The year was 1986.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but this tastes horrible.” Others in the group nodded. “What the hell is it?”
“It’s called Red Bull,” said the facilitator.
The man sniffed the liquid and recoiled. “It’s vile,” he said. “I’m sorry, it is.”
Meanwhile:
An Austrian marketer named Dietrich Mateschitz looked on through double-sided glass.
Mateschitz created Red Bull in 1984 after visiting Bangkok, where he tried a similar drink, an “energy tonic” called Krating Daeng. Full of caffeine, sugar, B-vitamins, taurine, and a carbohydrate called glucuronolactone, Krating Daeng was traditionally used by the Thai working class to stay alert and focused, productive.
Thick and sweet, like medicine, the drink was utilitarian. It was popular because it worked.
In Thailand, Krating Daeng was about the effect. It promised energy, not taste. It was about purpose, not pleasure. Krating Daeng, ultimately, was a tool.
But in Europe, where Mateschitz wanted to bring it to market, it was still just a drink: “Vile!”
So he set out to change this perception.
First:
Mateschitz updated the name along with:
The packaging: a short, thin aluminum can stood out on the shelf.
The tagline: “Red Bull gives you wiiings” made a promise.
The price: at more than double the cost of soda, Red Bull was positioned as an expensive, functional alternative.
Only the logo — two muscular, charging red bulls against a yellow sun — remained untouched.
Second:
In a stroke of genius, he partnered with The Dolomitenmann.
Billed as “the world’s toughest team race” The Dolomitenmann was a combination of running, paragliding, kayaking, and mountain biking. In 1988, it was brand new and seeking sponsorship. Mateschitz won the bid, putting Red Bull’s logo on every piece of equipment, aligning the brand with the pillars of extreme sports: vitality, flight, energy.
Millions across Europe tuned in — and received a clear message:
Red Bull is, in fact, a tool.