I watched the Paris Olympics opening ceremony from my couch with both cats on my lap and a glass of wine that kept needing refilling. Four hours later, I had feelings. Lots of them. And almost none of them were about sports.
Here's what struck me: Paris didn't try to out-spectacle Beijing or out-spend Tokyo. They didn't build a stadium-sized LED screen or choreograph ten thousand synchronized drummers. They put the ceremony on a river, made it a love letter to French culture, and basically said: "We're not competing with you. We're not even playing the same game."
Lululemon's ambassador program doesn't pay athletes millions. It empowers local fitness instructors. The brand is built from the yoga studio floor up, not the broadcast booth down.
That's not event planning. That's brand positioning.
Thomas Jolly, the artistic director, made a choice that every brand strategist should study. He refused to accept the existing category conventions (the stadium format, the parade of athletes in a ring, the escalating spectacle arms race) and instead redefined what the opening ceremony could be. He changed the container.
The strategic principle: when you can't win within existing rules, change the rules.
Think about this in brand terms. If you're the fifth-best at something in your category, being the fifth-best louder doesn't help. You need to redefine what "best" means. Paris redefined what an opening ceremony is for: not to demonstrate power or precision, but to express identity. And identity is something France will always win on.
The backlash was equally instructive. The tableau that referenced (or didn't reference, depending on your art history literacy) the Last Supper / Feast of Dionysus created an immediate cultural fissure. Some people loved the provocation. Others were genuinely offended. But here's the thing: both groups were talking about it.
I've worked on enough campaigns to know that the worst outcome isn't controversy. The worst outcome is indifference. Paris was many things on Friday night. Indifferent was not one of them.
Now, I'm not suggesting every brand needs to court religious controversy at their next product launch. Please don't email me. But I am suggesting that the desire to please everyone is the fastest path to moving no one. Paris made choices. Bold, specific, arguable choices. And those choices are what made the ceremony a cultural event rather than just a sporting prelude.
The other thing Paris got right: they trusted their audience to be literate. The references to French cinema, fashion, literature, music, revolution. They didn't explain any of it. They didn't put subtitles saying "This is a reference to the French New Wave." They assumed a certain cultural fluency and rewarded those who had it.
This is the opposite of how most brands communicate. Most brands assume their audience knows nothing and over-explain everything. But there's a power in trusting people to get it, because the act of "getting it" creates a feeling of insider status. And insider status creates loyalty.
My takeaway, scribbled on a Post-it at 11 PM Pacific time while Lady Gaga sang in French on a golden staircase: the strongest brand statement you can make is the one you don't explain.
Paris said "this is who we are" for four hours straight. They never once said "this is who we are." That's the whole game.
They never once said "this is who we are." That's the whole game.