Edition 26: Unraveling The French Illusion – brilliant marketing or dangerous manipulation?
With strategy and storytelling HUMAN, Mark Blaisse
My DNA is half Dutch, half French. I had a very international upbringing, raised in many countries, but always with a French school education. After studying in Paris I became a correspondent for Le Monde in The Netherlands. Later I worked as a correspondent for Dutch media, but left Paris in 1985 with France set firm as my favorite country.
When I returned 40 years later to write about my impressions of modern France, I found a country transformed – and not for the better. Many of the things I loved most about French culture are slowly rotting from the inside, yet its masterful image building and brand management have helped it survive and stay relevant despite the inner turmoil. It points to a troubling trend and is arguably a mirror of our fast-changing global order – something that needs to be addressed now.
The World’s Best Marketed Country?
France has mastered its marketing department – dazzling the world while hiding its decay. The spectacle of the Olympic Games, the triumph in the face of tragedy in Notre-Dame’s reconstruction. These grand displays showcase a nation rich in history and culture, blessed with savoir-vivre and timeless elegance. France is maybe the global example of clever country propaganda. But behind this carefully polished facade, I think there are many things in profound trouble, from education to healthcare to people’s rights.
The illusion is so complete that even the French themselves have fallen for it. When I wrote The French Illusion, published in May, I had in mind the thousands of Dutch expatriates who’ve bought homes there, most of whom know nothing about the country beyond its cheap wine and sun-kissed skies. They bring their own food, they don’t learn French, they don’t drink wine or play golf with the locals, or go hunting with the mayor. They're living in France without experiencing anything of the real France – it’s a perfect metaphor for how the rest of the world views it too.
Contradiction at the Heart of a Nation
France proclaims "Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité" on its flag and has long used this national motto as a powerful marketing message. Yet how it embodies these ideals doesn’t always feel authentic.
The French love individual liberty but crave authoritarian leadership. They adore their presidents like kings, expecting to be both liberated, looked after and controlled by them. I remember interviewing President Mitterrand in 1981 and he stopped the car next to an oak tree, took off his hat for it and said, “For me this is a symbol of power. Actually this is my brother. I am not only an oak tree, I am France.” Everybody was applauding – he sounded like Napoleon or Louis XIV.
They celebrate equality and so despise competition as it threatens their cherished notion of uniformity. It’s a very strange mentality, as it makes “competition” feel like a dirty word. The result – French companies don’t like to compete, so their potential for exports is far below what they could actually achieve. When Mitterrand nationalized many major French companies and placed his friends in charge, most went bankrupt – but nobody will admit that’s the case because a nation as grand as France cannot be bankrupt.
Most telling is their interpretation of fraternity. Few if any European countries demonstrate more hostility towards Muslim and Jewish minorities within their borders than France, from banning religious symbols like the burqa and niqab in public to a rise in anti-Semitic acts.
The gap between motto and reality reveals a nation comfortable with cognitive dissonance on an industrial scale.
Economics of Denial
The numbers tell an equally sobering story. French civil servants – 21% of the workforce – take an average of close to 30 sick days annually plus 30 vacation days. Many essentially don't work for two months over the year, yet any president who dares reform this system faces mass protests and political suicide.
French women, long idolized as the epitome of elegance and fashion, spend an average of just €650 per year on clothing – less than almost any other European nation’s women. The country that invented haute couture has citizens who can't afford to dress to that reputation. Meanwhile, France continues to project an image of luxury and sophistication that no longer matches its economic reality. Private brands like LVMH act as national brands, creating a veneer that covers a much more frugal, thrifty reality.
The Challenge of Reform
The French have thus convinced themselves – and much of the world – that they remain a ‘grand nation’ immune to the rules that govern other countries. No foreign economic models will be considered: not the German Rhine model, not the Danish model. "We are France," they declare, as if historical greatness exempts them from contemporary mathematics.
The dangerous seduction of national missions – France has one, Russia has one, Trump's America has one – creates a permission structure for ignoring inconvenient truths. When a country believes it has a destiny, facts become negotiable. We are seeing it all over the world.
Perhaps Europe's shift toward becoming a defense union rather than economic coop will save France from its contradictions. With the UK out, it’s the EU’s only remaining nuclear power and so suddenly becomes indispensable again. The illusion gets another lease on life, propped up by geopolitical necessity rather than economic fundamentals. It will probably be the last chance for President Emmanuel Macron to get a positive mention in the history books as the leader who organized the answer to Donald Trump’s revisionism.
Global Stakes
This isn't just about one nation's self-deception. In an age of populist missions and strongman leadership, France's ‘model of beauty’ is sustained through collective belief and becomes a template others might follow. When countries can maintain international standing through skillful image management rather than substantive achievement, the very nature of truth in diplomacy shifts.
The French illusion succeeds because people want to believe in it – including the French themselves. But in a world where AI now makes truth itself negotiable, France's mastery of managing perception over reality might be less unique achievement than troubling harbinger. The fact that the public doesn’t seem to care whether it’s manipulated or not, as long as it can live in peace and safety, implies that these ingredients are more important than democracy (which is unfair anyway), free press, tolerance towards minorities and such things.
We’re now seeing a tendency towards leaving personal responsibility to our leaders – Hungary, Italy, Poland, Holland, Turkey and the US to name but a few. There’s a growing feeling that politics are for the elite, not for the people. This opens doors to totalitarianism and populism.
It’s time for communities, leaders, creative thinkers and communities like Group Of Humans to analyze what countermeasures can be taken in a world where truth and lies are nigh on impossible to differentiate. If ‘facts’ can’t be trusted, what can? How can we use AI and not feel threatened? How can we make sure that truth, trust, transparency and a moral compass are essential for a good functioning society that doesn’t want to become a dictatorship. Can art, design, literature and culture help – and if so, how?
The question isn't whether France will maintain its illusion indefinitely. The question is what happens to the rest of us when the techniques it uses to promote and sustain itself on the world stage become the new normal in international relations.
I already forwarded to a couple of french friends : )
An excellent piece Mark, distilling the first quarter of the 21st C. Radical thinking required.
I remember the discussions /arguments around “the Chicago School” 50 years ago it also has much to do with societal collapse as is a non functioning state that often declares what its not good at.
I am very taken by Prof Mariana Mazzucatu's work on change, do you know her work?