Yoel’s Lemonade Stand: Why Your Brand Shouldn't Make Sense

There's a peculiar madness that overtakes otherwise sensible Orthodox businesspeople the moment they decide to launch a company. Suddenly, these same individuals who can navigate complex halachic discussions about ribbit and partnership structures become paralyzed by the prospect of choosing a business name. They convene “focus groups”, hire consultants, and engage in elaborate soul-searching exercises to "discover their brand essence."

This is roughly equivalent to naming your newborn child based on a personality assessment administered in the delivery room.

The truth is, the most successful brands in the world have names that bear no logical relationship to what they actually do. Starbucks – that ubiquitous temple of caffeinated commerce – takes its name from a minor character in Moby Dick, a fellow who probably never touched a coffee bean in his fictional life. Their logo? A two-tailed mermaid who presumably has never operated an espresso machine. If Starbucks had followed conventional branding wisdom, it'd be called something forgettable like "Premium Coffee Solutions" or "Bean There, Done That."

The genius of Starbucks isn't that their name makes sense; it's that their name makes no sense whatsoever to anyone else in the coffee business. This is what marketing professor Byron Sharp calls a "distinct asset" – something so uniquely yours that competitors can't accidentally stumble into similarity.

Orthodox business owners understand this principle instinctively in other contexts. Your Hebrew name wasn't selected because a team of consultants analyzed your character traits and market positioning. You were named Moshe or Sarah or Yitzchak because that's what your parents chose, often honoring family tradition or spiritual significance that had nothing to do with your future profession. Yet somehow, you've made that name distinctly yours through your actions and character.

Elon Musk wasn't named Elon because anyone predicted he'd revolutionize electric vehicles. He made the name Elon Musk mean what it means today.

The same principle applies to business naming. Apple Computer wasn't named after conducting extensive research into the brand essence of personal computing. Steve Jobs simply liked apples, and “the name put us ahead of Atari in the phone book.” That arbitrary choice became one of the most valuable brand names in history because Apple made it mean something through their products and behavior.

When Orthodox entrepreneurs get caught up in brand essence exercises before they've even opened their doors, they're putting the cart several miles ahead of the horse. Your brand isn't what you think you are – it's what your customers experience when they interact with you. Since you haven't started serving customers yet, you literally have no brand to analyze.

This obsession with meaningful names often leads to the most meaningless names imaginable. The marketplace is littered with companies called "Innovative Solutions," "Strategic Partners," and "Excellence Enterprises" – names so generic they're essentially invisible. They sound like everyone else because they tried to sound like what they thought they should sound like.

The kosher food industry offers perfect examples of both approaches. Some companies choose names that scream their function: "Glatt Kosher Catering" or "Strictly Kosher Bakery." Others – often the most memorable ones – choose names that create curiosity: "Café K" or "Twelve Tribes." The latter approach forces the name to earn its meaning through performance rather than explanation.

Your distinct asset (whether it's your business name, logo or signature approach) should be so uniquely yours that competitors can't accidentally wander into your territory. Not to be different for difference's sake. But to be unmistakably you.

Stop trying to make it make sense. 

Put your effort into making it mean something instead.