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This year, an estimated one million people will visit the World of Coca-Cola, the company-funded museum whose 100,000 square feet of exhibits, memorabilia and interactive installations consistently ranks among Atlanta’s most popular tourist attractions. While the bank vault that contains Coke’s purportedly secret recipe is probably the most dramatic offering, a perennial fan favorite hides up on the second level, just past the elevators. It’s called Taste It! and, as the name suggests, it’s a taproom where visitors can sample Coca-Cola products from all over the world. There’s Sprite Cucumber from Romania, for instance, and Korean favorite Minute Maid Joy Apple Lychee.
Oh, and there’s Tab.
Last week on a visit to Atlanta, members of Tab’s largest Facebook fan group were delighted to find the beverage still streaming from the spigots. The sight made them a little wistful, too, because the World of Coca-Cola is, paradoxically enough, the only place left in the world where consumers can sip Tab. On Oct. 16, 2020, Coca-Cola announced that it would cease production of the storied cola in the magenta can, the first major diet soft drink to hit the American market back in 1963.
To say that Tab fans were disappointed would be an understatement. Over the past three years, Tab drinkers have not only scoured store shelves to stock up on the last cans, but they also organized into advocacy groups on Facebook, with Save Tab Soda being the most visible.
Two weeks ago, following repeated appeals to headquarters via written correspondence, the group’s members decided to kick things up a notch.
“We wanted to do our first in-person event, and it coincided with the 60th anniversary of Tab,” Adam Burbach, Save Tab’s president, told Adweek. “Our plan was to go to lunch and then bring a collection of cards and stories that we’ve been collecting from the Tab group and walk them over to Coca-Cola [headquarters.]” As things turned out, Coca-Cola’s PR department decided to save the group the trip by sending a representative down to meet them.
Hyped up consumers appearing at a brand’s headquarters is nothing new, of course, but the case of Tab fans and Coca-Cola is noteworthy. Despite their grief over having lost their favorite drink, Tab fans aren’t angry with Coke—they’d just like their Tab back. (For their part, Coke’s PR reps who came out were, the group said, “very nice” to them as well.) And while the visit was a demonstration of sorts, it was designed to entertain as well as inform. The former involved Save Tab members dressed in Tab attire—even Tab costumes—as they made their way from the airport. The latter took the form of a bag of letters they brought from across the country imploring Coke to resurrect Tab.
While the odds seem long that Tab will appear on store shelves again, the movement nevertheless raises marketing questions worth pondering well outside the beverage realm. Should a legacy company feel any responsibility toward a brand that, while faded, nonetheless helped it to prosper? Does the hard-nosed wisdom of a financial decision always outweigh the value of keeping fans happy? And even if a product has outlived its usefulness, does goodwill argue for keeping it around—even in a limited run?