I heard the most amazing thing last weekend at PPI’s Forward Thinking 2010 conference in Oregon. It came, deadpan, out of the mouth of Daniel Dejan, North America Print/Creative Manager for Sappi Fine Paper. We don't call it paper anymore, he said, it’s “a communication delivery device.” Holy euphemism, Batman! I am hoping that Daniel was kidding. Call it what you want, but it’s still paper. And (for the most part) it still comes from forests. You simply cannot break that link. Nor should you try. People love forests and the trees that live in them. In fact, people have an almost instinctual attachment to forests. Back in the early days of the Spotted Owl debacle, the (then-named) Timber Association of California hired a young French sociologist, G. Clotaire Rapaille, to look into the relationship that people have with trees. What emerged was the “forest archetype” for America – the code of an almost-reptilian, almost-sacred belief-set about forests and trees that is somehow hardwired into us. Understanding (and, I would add, revering) this code is important, because it is what makes possible the effective communication of ideas about the things that come from forests, including printing paper. Violate the code and all communication stops. And what you’re stuck with is the wrath of some very, very angry believers. So what's the nature of this forest archetype? Among other things:
- The forest is female. (Kinda makes sense, doesn’t it? Nurturing, Mother Nature, and all that.)
- The forest is a sanctuary. (Think cathedral. Wilderness is a place of reverence, even if someone’s particular patch of ‘wilderness’ has a bike path, a snack bar, and flush toilets.)
- Americans have the same love for trees as they do for their grandparents. And felling a tree is like killing grandma.
- “Timber” is a warning cry that gramps is about to get whacked. (No surprise that Timber Association of California changed its name to California Forestry Association after the archetype study.)