Sustainable Oil and Profitable Wind: The communication of corporate responsibilities as inverted positioning

This insight from experimental psychology on individual impression management also sounds like a reasonable piece of advice for companies (Strahilevitz 2003). The communication of corporate responsibilities does not take its starting point from a tabula rasa, but can be understood as a (more or less appropriate) response to public presuppositions. Managerial research prefers to position Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) as an independent variable: scholars are interested in the effects of CSR on corporate reputation and on profit in particular (Carroll & Shabana 2010; Gao & Bansal 2013; Jensen 2001; Lockett et al. 2006). It is less often analysed as a corporate response to public communication processes. Instead, many studies contribute implicitly to “the discursive construction of proactivity” (Zoller & Tener 2010: 391) in the field of CSR communication.

However, there is also an increasing interest in the CSR of controversial industries drawing attention to the question of how companies respond – or how they should respond to problematic pre-existing public images. They might aspire to competitive positioning, which would mean generally keeping quiet about CSR as perceived weakness, while highlighting strengths e.g. in the field of economic performance. Or are these companies nevertheless keen to engage in credible CSR communication? Conversely, the same question arises when looking at companies with a distinctly positive image as far as social and environmental responsibilities are concerned. They might highlight their competitive advantage in the field of CSR in order to distinguish their own business model from less responsible competitors. Or are there reasons “to brownwash by issuing communications to understate their environmental achievement”? (Kim & Lyon 2015: 706) Competitive positioning as the communication of a perceived competitive advantage (Porter 1985) appears at first glance like the most reasonable strategic response to pre-existing images. We call this into question and agree with Du, Bhattacharya & Sen (2007), who argue that “a more thorough contrast of specific positioning strategies awaits further investigation” (p. 237).

Our qualitative study contrasts the online responsibility communication of Royal Dutch Shell (hereafter: Shell) with that of Vestas. Both are active in the energy sector and both are global players, but Shell represents the extractive oil and gas industry, while Vestas constructs and sells wind turbines. The comparison of Shell as a controversial but profitable company, with Vestas as a potential CSR brand, which has been under financial pressure in the past, will allow us to identify different positioning strategies in their overall responsibility communications. Accordingly, the complete triple bottom line is brought into focus: Profit, People, Planet (Elkington 1997). We need to widen a narrow understanding of corporate social responsibility to encompass a broader understanding of corporate responsibility, which comprises not only the social and environmental, but also the economic dimension (Carroll 1991). We contribute both to empirical research and theoretical discussions of responsibility communication by asking: how do Shell and Vestas communicate corporate responsibilities on their websites, and how can differences be theoretically interpreted as responses to differing public perceptions?

Controversial industries engage in practices and sell products that are publicly perceived to be inherently problematic in social and environmental terms. Examples listed by Cai, Jo & Pan (2012) include tobacco, gambling, alcohol, adult entertainment, weapons, nuclear products, oil, cement, and biotech. We agree with the authors when they state, “studies on the relation between such controversial industry sectors and CSR are in its infant stage and we do not fully understand why and how firms in controversial industries gain or sneak legitimacy through CSR engagement” (p. 468). However, in recent years in particular, there have been a few studies (Banerjee & Bonnefous 2011; Cai, Jo & Pan 2012; Du & Vieira Jr. 2012; Frynas 2005; Yoon, Gürhan-Canli, & Schwarz 2006; Livesey 2002; Livesey & Kearins 2002; O’Connor & Gronewold 2012; Palazzo & Richter 2005; Slack 2012; Wheeler, Fabig & Boele 2002). Results appear to be counter-intuitive and show that controversial industries do not avoid CSR claims. On the contrary: they actively communicate social and environmental responsibilities. As far back as forty years ago, Fry & Hock (1976) concluded – in quite a provocative fashion: “Who claims corporate responsibility? The biggest and the worst.” Similarly, Ashforth & Gibbs (1990) argue that a low legitimacy organisation is typically an “overacting” actor who “often makes claims that exceed what a high legitimacy organization would claim. Because management is sensitive and defensive about the organization’s credibility, it tends to grossly exaggerate its claims. Only in the totalitarian Soviet Union would a national newspaper be named ’Truth’ (Pravda), or would leadership elections be proclaimed unanimous. Like intolerance, this braggadocio is also a sign of felt insecurity.” (p. 190)

Such insecurity might result from inconsistencies between public perceptions and self-perceptions. Individuals who believe that an audience’s critical perceptions are unjustified, insist on the opposite, instead of talking about strengths in other areas (Baumeister & Jones 1978). This also applies to those in management positions, especially in controversial industries (De Vries & Miller 1984). They tend to highlight social and environmental responsibilities instead of dissimulating them. In consequence, the idea of competitive positioning, where companies focus on perceived strengths instead of drawing attention to perceived weaknesses, is not supported by research on controversial industries. In these instances, we assume what we refer to as inverted positioning: companies criticised for a lack of social and environmental responsibilities tend to highlight their compliance with exactly those same responsibilities.

In consequence, we may also challenge competitive positioning as the preferred strategy of potential CSR brands. Again, it would appear to be common sense that companies in industries which allow them to position their CSR not just as an add-on, but as “part of the corporate DNA” (Waddock & Googins 2011: 30), ought to make use of this competitive advantage by differentiating themselves from other players on the market (Porter & Kramer 2006; Smith 2003). However, there is barely any research on corporate communication of (potential) CSR brands – even less than there is concerning the CSR of controversial industries. One of the few studies is presented by Du, Bhattacharya & Sen (2007), who, in their comparative analysis of three yoghurt brands, show the potential of a holistic approach to CSR. A popular “textbook” case is The Body Shop, which would appear to be a prime example of successful CSR branding. Livesey & Kearins (2002) describe how The Body Shop developed a distinct CSR brand by communicating a caring corporate identity with explicit political implications. However, there are also other voices: Strahilevitz (2003) concludes from experiments that “good corporate citizens” could neglect CSR communication, since there would be little room for further reputational improvement. Kim & Lyon (2015) argue that a significant CSR might even be downplayed, especially when companies face economic challenges. Brownwashing might be a reasonable corporate strategy during periods of low profits in order to alleviate concerns of shareholders worried about the costs of sustainable practices.

Overall, our literature review on corporate responses to positive or negative public perceptions of corporate responsibilities reveals instructive results, but also some research gaps:

There are not many empirical and hardly any comparative studies positioning responsibility communication as a response to differing public perceptions. Increased interest in the CSR of controversial industries began only a few years ago. There is even less substantial research on CSR branding, even though it is a popular “best practice” teaching topic.

An economically responsible company responds to the expectation to be successful in financial terms. The communication of economic responsibilities might be prioritised or marginalised. It might or might not be related to the communication of social and environmental responsibilities (Banerjee & Bonnefous 2011; Humphreys & Brown 2008; O’Connor & Gronewold 2012). Functionalist business research (e.g., Cai, Jo & Pan 2012) tends to underestimate the complexity of these tensions by assuming a kind of natural win-win-relationship: being profitable and being a “good corporate citizen” are claimed to be mutually supportive. Public perceptions, however, may differ, and a contrasting research design looking at responsibility communication as a response to public perceptions needs to take this into account. It affects both the choice of cases and the methodology, which will be presented in the following section.

“Shell helps…”. Already on the landing page, Shell introduces the highly salient term “help” which is fundamental to its impression management strategy (see Table 2). The positioning of Shell as a “helping” company is a recurring theme, accompanied by a commitment to the “triple bottom line”: “Shell helps to meet the world’s growing demand for energy in economically, environmentally and socially responsible ways.” The resources of a huge global company (“94,000 employees in more than 70 countries”) enable Shell to “help” the world. The “About us” section also includes a first reference to sustainability, highlighting an “innovative approach to help build a sustainable energy future”. In the “Who we are” section, reference is again made to the “triple bottom line”, enabling Shell to meet the “needs of society”. They are not writing about needs of customers, demands of markets, or expectations of shareholders. Shell’s communicated perspective is society as a whole.

Shell counters critical public perceptions without explicitly referring to them. They do not want to appear to be some kind of global dinosaur, set to squander their future by sticking to outdated fossil energy sources. Instead, the company presents itself as an innovative global group, committed to sustainable energy when helping to meet the future needs of societies. This is what we would define as inverted positioning. Instead of avoiding the sustainability discourse by highlighting strengths in other areas, Shell aims to invert critical public perceptions by claiming precisely the opposite.

Vestas’ homepage highlights wind as their “business and passion” (see Table 3). They are proud of their “market-leading position” and their “best-in-class energy solutions”, which then allow them “to set the pace in our industry”. They aim to be the “undisputed wind leader”. The “customers” come first, the “planet” second, this being the only reference in their introductory statement – and a fleeting one at that – to the sustainability discourse. What dominates instead is business language. In their “company profile” section they write about “business case certainty”, “reducing the cost”, “most effective solutions” and the “value chain”. Vestas’ primary reference is the market and the customer, not society as a whole. Vestas frames the world of energy as a competition on global markets with the crucial question: Who is best? The answer: Vestas. A key feature of their business discourse is what Alvesson (2014) has described as rhetoric of “grandiosity”. Vestas bombards the reader with superlatives, in order to exemplify the outstanding economic success story of an ever-expanding company that began in “1898 as a blacksmith shop in western Denmark”.

Another striking feature of Vestas’ business discourse is the underlying instrumental reasoning. Vestas’ “About” section begins with “Making wind work.” It is almost reminiscent of a biblical commandment: “dominion over the earth and subduing the earth” (Genesis 1, Verse 28). Nature is positioned as a resource to be exploited (Pal & Jenkins 2014). Vestas commodifies wind by highlighting its “competitive cost” and “reliable delivery” to “customers”. This is anything but the competitive positioning of a CSR brand. They do not highlight wind as green energy with the potential to replace oil and gas. Instead, they want wind to be seen as a “mainstream energy source” placed “securely alongside oil and gas”. They do not position themselves as an alternative energy provider making a difference to the environment. Instead, they want to grow in order to become part of the mainstream. Vestas takes the extractive industries as the benchmark for its own development.

Shell also includes elements of a business discourse, as their sections “Our purpose”, “Our values”, and “Our strategy” indicate (see Table 4). However, these elements are always embedded in a broader framework of social and environmental responsibilities. Shell’s purpose is to engage both “responsibly and profitably in oil”, while also developing other sources of energy. They want to meet both “customer needs and the world’s growing demand for energy”. They set the standards both “of performance and ethical behaviors”. They claim to be an industry “leader”, “while helping to meet global energy demand in a responsible way. Safety, environmental and social responsibility are at the heart of our activities.” Again, the role of the responsible “helper” is prioritised over the role of the profitable industry “leader”. References to business jargon (leader, profit, performance, customer, etc.) are allowed, but they are never allowed to stand alone. The responsibility discourse is prioritised, and functions as a minder domesticating the language of the market. Shell’s value statement fits into this strategy: “honesty, integrity and respect for people”. These are very much individual characteristics aimed at personalising and humanising the company.

Vestas’ “Vision”, “Mission”, their “Values”, and “Corporate strategy” set different priorities (see Table 5). Leadership rhetoric is far more salient: Vestas wants to be the “undisputed wind leader”, the “strongest brand in the industry”, they “set the pace” with “faster operations than our competitors”. The corporate context is once more portrayed as a global business race, with Vestas confident that they will be the winners in the end. This is their overall framing supported by the rhetoric of grandiosity and business jargon: “in class margins”, “customers”, “quality”, “operations”, “growth”, “turnaround”, “strategic objectives”, “control”, “flexibly”. Further, they list three corporate values that seem strangely anaemic: “Accountability”, “Collaboration”, and “Simplicity”. Contrary to Shell, which presents itself as an organisation with a human face, Vestas’ value statement appears somewhat aseptic, as if they were unsure what they ought to talk about where values are concerned.

There are only a few references pointing beyond the scope of the market. Vestas claims to benefit “our customers and our planet”. Like Shell, they make use of a rhetorical figure that links economic responsibilities with environmental responsibilities. However, this is not integrative but additive, and the blunt headline for their “strategy” makes clear where the priorities lie: “Profitable Growth for Vestas”. Once more, nature is positioned as a resource, revealing an instrumental approach towards the environment: Vestas’ vision is “solely committed to harvesting the potential wind holds”. They want to bring “wind on par with oil and gas”. The company does not present itself as an alternative energy provider, but instead bases its actions on the benchmark set by the extractive industries.

Lastly, we a look at the statements supposed to directly account for responsibilities beyond the market: Shell on “Environment & Society” (see Table 6) and Vestas on “Sustainability” (see Table 7). In line with its personalised value statement, Shell refers to “daily life” and communities when exemplifying its commitment to “Environment & Society”. Sustainability is not positioned as an ambition, but as a current achievement: “To help meet tomorrow’s energy needs, Shell is working responsibly today. Our approach to sustainability starts with running a safe, efficient, responsible and profitable business.” Profitability is the last term listed and is merely a means to a higher end: Shell can only help the world if it is profitable. As with Vestas, the rhetoric of a mean-end-relationship indicates an instrumental reasoning and a resource-based view of strategy (Sillince 2006). However, Vestas perceives nature as an exploitable resource, whereas Shell describes a sustainable energy future as the higher end, with profit maximisation appearing as the necessary evil on the path to achieving the ultimate goal, which is to help the planet.

In contrast, Vestas’ understanding of sustainability is very much coloured by its dynamic growth and grandiosity rhetoric: “Powering sustainability.” They associate sustainability less with ideas of system endurance, protection, resilience, or stability. Instead, terms like “power”, “pressure”, “rapidly”, “change”, and “growth” illustrate the restless nature of the business discourse. The “capitalist progress myth” (Ihlen 2011: 150) is not revised but promoted: more consumption (“use of energy is growing rapidly”) requires more production (“need to produce more renewable energy”). Saving energy is not on their agenda; their business model is firmly based on the energy hunger of the “developed society”: “Be it jobs, security, climate change or food production – access to sustainable energy is essential for strengthening economies, protecting ecosystems, reducing poverty and achieving equity.” In both listings, business-related ambitions come first: “jobs” and “strengthening economies”. Even “equity” as the final term is still business jargon, and one is left wondering why they did not choose “justice” or “equality” instead. Overall, Vestas subordinates sustainability to the hyperactive growth ideology of the market, while Shell frames its responsibilities on “Environment & Society” as their ultimate corporate driver aiming to enhance people’s life worlds.

Our study analysed the way in which two companies from the energy sector communicate corporate responsibilities on their websites. Both companies need to respond to different perceptions; while Shell is acknowledged to be a profitable company, as a representative of the oil industry it has been criticised for a lack of social and environmental responsibility. Vestas, meanwhile, is a representative of the wind industry and has the potential of a CSR brand, but its economic performance has been called into question. The results show that the responsibility communications of Shell and Vestas are indeed very different, but in a way that might come as a surprise. It is not the case that both companies follow the logic of competitive positioning by highlighting perceived competitive advantages. Shell does not focus on its economic responsibility, and Vestas does not focus on its social and environmental responsibility. On the contrary, both engage in inverted positioning. Shell aims to invert public perceptions by a pervasive communication of social and environmental responsibilities, whereas Vestas downplays precisely these responsibilities. They aim to invert public perceptions by highlighting economic responsibilities.

Thus, the same strategy – inverted positioning – results in markedly different self-presentations. Shell constructs the image of an innovative helper serving the energy needs of the world in a sustainable and responsible manner. The company shows a human face and an understanding of the concerns of common people. Even though the sustainability discourse is highly salient on their website, Shell also takes account of economic responsibilities. However, profitability as a corporate goal is domesticated and subordinated to social and environmental responsibilities, which are presented as the primary corporate commitment.

Vestas’ self-presentation is instead displayed through highly salient and obtrusive business jargon. They brownwash their image by constituting themselves as powerful leaders succeeding on a competitive market due to their outstanding customer service. Their promotional rhetoric of economic grandiosity goes hand in hand with an instrumental approach to nature: the wind is positioned as a resource that needs to be exploited. Vestas is committed to a traditional growth paradigm where the response to greater consumption of energy must be increased production. References to a sustainability discourse are marginal. The company does not define itself as a sustainable alternative to oil. Quite the contrary, the strong market position of the oil industry is used as a valued benchmark. Instead of highlighting perceived strengths as a potential CSR brand, they focus on economic responsibilities.

Overall, Shell insists on contested social and environmental responsibilities while marginalising economic responsibilities. Vestas insists on contested economic responsibilities while marginalising social and environmental responsibilities. Both invert differing public perceptions, and in consequence, the same type of positioning results in different corporate messages: Shell takes care of sustainable oil, while Vestas exploits profitable wind.

Theoretical implications

How can we make sense of inverted positioning in theoretical terms? A critical perspective could demand its deconstruction: “Managers must say they are responsible, because they are not.” (Cheit 1971: 372) This assumption would allow responsibility communication to be taken as a perfect empirical indicator for the responsibility of corporate practices. One need only apply a reversed sign: a company that highlights its CSR involuntarily lets us know that they are not socially and environmentally responsible; a company that highlights its outstanding economic performance on competitive markets involuntarily lets us know that it must be in serious financial difficulties. While such an interpretation of inverted positioning is not without charm, its normative claim is inherently positivistic: Corporate communications – what they say – should be consistent with corporate practices – what they do. Communication is conceptualised as a corporate conduit (Axley 1984) and results in a paradigmatic ‘talk’ versus ‘action’ distinction. It is a paradigm that deconstructionist CSR research (e.g., Aras & Crowther 2009; Fougère & Solitander 2009; Slack 2012) actually shares with the functionalist business discourse on CSR (e.g., Basil & Erlandson 2008; Preuss 2015; Waddock & Googins 2011; Wagner, Lutz & Weitz 2009; Yoon, Gürhan-Canli & Schwarz 2006). However, such a theoretical positioning expects the impossible of empirical research, requiring the identification of practices beyond communication (Boje, Gardner & Smith 2006).

Instead, we would follow a paradigm that conceptualises communication as social practice: Communication Constitutes Organisations (Ashcraft, Kuhn & Cooren 2009; Taylor & van Every 2000). It is increasingly used as a foundation for a third way of CSR thinking beyond positivistic functionalism and traditional critical perspectives (Christensen & Cheney 2011; Schoeneborn & Trittin 2013). We did not choose Shell and Vestas for our case study because one company is profitable and the other sustainable as a matter of fact. Instead, our starting point was the different public perceptions about social, environmental, and economic responsibilities. Thus, we interpret corporate communications as a response to public communications, but not as a more or less appropriate mirror of some kind of external reality beyond communication. In consequence, we define inverted positioning as a theoretical element within a communication process model (see Figure 1). The communication process takes its starting point from the public image of a company as perceived by the corporation. The response is a strategic choice between competitive and inverted positioning. We hypothesise that inverted positioning will be the preferred choice, if the company assumes significant critical perceptions on at least one relevant dimension of responsibilities. They will highlight social and environmental sustainability if they are criticised on account of a lack of these responsibilities, and are likely to highlight profitability and competitiveness if they observe speculation regarding their economic responsibility.

Figure 1

So, what might the consequence of inverted positioning be? We assume two possibilities – either a reputational “downward spiral” (Hambrick & D'Aveni 1988) or “aspirational talk” (Christensen, Morsing & Thyssen 2013) facilitating organisational learning processes (Huzzard & Östergren 2002). A corporate “downward spiral” has been conceptualised by March (2007) as “Ibsen dilemma” and by Ashforth & Gibbs (1990) as a vicious circle induced by an “overacting actor”. Shell and Vestas would be such actors, because they “overstate claims to legitimacy” (p. 177). The more they produce “ideal-satisfying fantasies” (March 2007: 1283) as part of their inverted positioning strategy, “the more resolute and vigorous become the guardians of ideals in enforcing them” (p. 1282). Jones & Pittman (1982) explain these processes with the aid of a “self-promoters’ paradox” (p. 243); empirical research based on attribution theory points out that highly salient self-promotional communication decreases the credibility of corporate messages (Sjovall & Talk 2004; Yoon, Gürhan-Canli & Schwarz 2006). Critical stakeholders may then become even more aggressive, as inverted positioning fuels a vicious cycle that ultimately results in grotesque corporate communication strategies, with a company like Shell presenting itself as a kind of global charity.

A more optimistic theoretical perspective has been offered by Christensen, Morsing & Thyssen (2013) who introduced the concept of “aspirational talk” in order to better understand perceived gaps between talk and action. They argue from a CCO perspective that these gaps do not necessarily indicate organisational hypocrisy or decoupling processes. “Aspirational talk” in the field of CSR should not be measured against real corporate practices; instead, it should be valued as a self-committing ambition for the future. The more companies publicly talk about contested responsibilities, the greater pressure they come under to comply with such responsibilities. Even if CSR communication starts with the intention of pure “window dressing”, “greenwashing” or “brownwashing”, the constitutive and performative character of communication could gradually induce learning processes, where in the end managers align with their claims (Livesey & Graham 2007). In other words, corporate responsibilities can be talked into existence. So, instead of criticising the over-communication observed in the case of both Shell and Vestas, we ought to carefully investigate the degree to which their inverted positioning might support “aspirational talk” with the potential to induce substantial organisational improvements (Livesey 2002). If these changes are appreciated by the public in the long run, the company could switch from an inverted to a competitive positioning by highlighting strengths which have in the past been perceived to be weaknesses.