Every brand begins with a spark. It might have been a frustration that needed fixing, a belief that refused to stay quiet, or a person who cared enough to build something better than what existed. At the start, there is usually clarity. There is usually excitement. There is some kind of conviction that says this matters.
I am currently playing Ebenezer Scrooge in the production of A Christmas Carol. It’s an interesting role and one that is so well known, it’s hard to bring something new to it. I certainly don’t want to be just an angry guy ranting around the stage. I had to find a reason for the anger and a reason for him to make such a dramatic turn in the end. The answer cannot simply be ghosts; it is implied in the book that Scrooge kept the spirit of Christmas alive more than any other person. So one night of being afraid isn’t enough to change a man’s life that fully. I needed to find why he became as we see him, and to find what was underneath, so that stuff could be dismissed and Scrooge could find his way back to being human.
It’s been a fascinating journey and I believe I have found what I needed to make Scrooge a whole and believable person. I am still fascinated by the ghosts. What is it about Scrooge that makes these ghosts stop their eternal lives and step into the corporeal world for this one guy?
And, of course, I started seeking parallels in my own life. Have I ever had any turns brought about by “ghosts?” I can think of a few, and I won’t share those, too personal, too weird, and this blog is not about personal psychology, so …
Then, this morning, sitting at the desk, peering at the screen, I wondered if brands have stories of their three ghosts, so to speak. Do brands lose track, fall apart, and are visited by apparitions that turn them around?
I thought it was a good question, and so I ask, do brands have visitations by three spirits, and if so, what does that look like, and what is the outcome?
As I sat with that question, I realized the same thing might be true outside the world of theatre. Scrooge is not the only one who drifts from who he used to be. He is not the only one who forgets what he once valued or how he once moved through the world. Brands do this too. They grow, they harden, they get wrapped up in efficiency and momentum, and somewhere in the middle of it all, they lose sight of why they began.
Which made me wonder what a visitation might look like for them.
The Ghost of Brand Past
Every brand begins with a spark. It might have been a frustration that needed fixing, a belief that refused to stay quiet, or a person who cared enough to build something better than what existed. At the start, there is usually clarity. There is usually excitement. There is some kind of conviction that says this matters.
Over time, that feeling thins out. Success can dull it. Growth can overshadow it. A company can wake up one day and realize it barely resembles the thing it was created to be. The Ghost of Brand Past is that moment when you look back and see the version of the brand before the layers of complexity, fear, or routine took over.
It asks a simple question. What did you believe when this started?
Some brands can still answer instantly. Patagonia has never lost its original pulse. Its belief has carried through every decade of change. Other brands have drifted. Starbucks once knew it was about community more than caffeine. Lego knew it was about imagination long before it became a movie franchise and a theme park empire. Apple carried a clear outsider energy in its early days, a spirit that had to be rediscovered after the years when the company nearly collapsed.
The Ghost of Brand Past reveals what has been forgotten. Not in a shaming way, but in a clarifying way. It reminds a brand of its original voice and the reason people cared in the first place. Most brands that have lost their way did not do it with intention. It happens quietly and slowly until someone finally asks why things feel off.
This first ghost arrives to help brands remember who they were before the noise set in. Once you see that early version again, it becomes impossible to pretend you have not changed. The question becomes whether you choose to reconnect with that early truth or continue drifting without the anchor that once held everything together.
The Ghost of Brand Present
If the first ghost reminds a brand of what it once believed, the second ghost forces it to face what it has become. The Ghost of Brand Present is not dramatic or mystical. It is honest. It holds up a mirror and asks a brand to look at itself without filters, excuses, or nostalgia.
This ghost reveals the gap between intention and reality. It shows how customers actually experience the brand today. It shows what the team has grown numb to. It reveals the small inconsistencies that were ignored, the promises that softened over time, and the habits that replaced curiosity.
Most brands think they see themselves clearly. Few actually do. It is hard to recognize drift while you are still drifting. Routine creates a kind of fog. Familiarity makes flaws feel normal. People inside the brand may barely notice the distance between what the brand says and what it delivers.
The Ghost of Brand Present wipes that fog away.
It might show the confusion customers feel when the brand message has become too clever or too vague. It might reveal the slow erosion of trust caused by an inconsistent experience. It might highlight how the internal culture has forgotten what made the work feel alive in the first place.
This ghost is not cruel. It is direct. It exists to show the truth of the current state, because real change cannot begin without clarity. Brands that are willing to look honestly at where they stand today find the freedom to move with purpose again. Brands that refuse to look stay locked in patterns that slowly drain their momentum.
The Ghost of Brand Present reminds a brand that honesty is not a threat. It is a turning point.
The Ghost of Brand Yet to Come
The third ghost is the one that lingers. In the story, it speaks without a voice. It communicates through presence, through a kind of heavy silence that Scrooge cannot escape. It shows him the future that awaits if nothing changes. It shows the outcome of every neglected truth.
Brands have their own version of this ghost. It is not a spectral figure in a dark cloak. It is the quiet realization that a brand is heading toward a place it never meant to go. The future is always shaped by the choices a brand is making right now, even when those choices feel small.
The Ghost of Brand Yet to Come reveals the path that has already begun.
It might show what happens when a brand keeps repeating the same message long after people have stopped hearing it. It might reveal the eventual cost of ignoring customer frustration. It might show the slow fade into irrelevance that comes from playing it safe for too long. A brand can lose attention, lose trust, or lose its sense of purpose without ever experiencing a dramatic collapse. Most declines are quiet. Most declines are polite. Most declines are the result of small decisions that never felt urgent at the time.
This ghost also shows the talent a brand fails to keep because nothing feels inspiring anymore. It shows the customers who drift away because they no longer feel understood. It shows the internal work that becomes mechanical rather than meaningful. When a brand loses its imagination, its future becomes predictable in the worst possible way.
But this ghost, like the one Scrooge meets, is not here to condemn. It is here to warn. It presents a future that can still be changed. It shows the uncomfortable truth that every brand has two futures. The one it is drifting toward, and the one it could choose with intention.
The Ghost of Brand Yet to Come is a reminder that the future is not a mystery. It is a direction. And if the present course continues, the destination is already set.
This is where a brand often wakes up. The realization that a future can be rewritten is powerful. Seeing the consequences of inaction is often the first real moment of clarity a brand experiences. It is the push that forces deeper questions. Who will we become if we do not change? What will we lose? How will we be remembered?
And perhaps the most important question of all. Is this the legacy we want?
The Transformation
In the story, the turning point is not a single ghost or a sudden flash of fear. It is the cumulative weight of everything Scrooge finally allows himself to see. He witnesses the tenderness of his past, the consequences of his present, and the bleakness of the future that awaits if he refuses to change. It is overwhelming, but it is also clarifying. He begins to understand himself in a way he never has before.
Scrooge does not wake up changed because the spirits frightened him. He wakes up changed because they showed him the truth. They gave him a complete view of his own life, something he never would have found on his own. That is what makes his transformation believable. He is not running from something. He is running toward something. He is choosing to become the person he lost along the way.
Brands experience their own version of this moment. They rarely change because of panic or pressure. They change when they finally see themselves clearly, when the past comes back into focus, when the present reveals its blind spots, when the future becomes impossible to ignore.
A brand that reaches this point is standing at an important crossroads. It can continue as it is, drifting a little further from what once made it meaningful, or it can choose a different path. Transformation begins with a decision to care again. To pay attention again. To move with intention instead of habit.
This kind of change is not cosmetic. It is not a refreshed logo or a punchier tagline. It is a return to the foundation that made the brand worth building in the first place. It is the moment when leaders stop asking what is easiest and start asking what is truest. It is when clarity matters more than comfort.
The transformation of a brand often starts quietly. Someone asks a question no one has asked in years. Someone admits that the message no longer reflects the mission. Someone notices the culture slipping into autopilot. These small realizations are the first flickers of light after a long night. They signal that something deeper is ready to shift.
When a brand honors its past, faces its present, and chooses its future with intention, it creates the space for renewal. It becomes more human. More grounded. More capable of connection. Just like Scrooge, it remembers that generosity, clarity, and purpose are powerful forces that change how people feel and how teams work, and how customers respond.
Transformation does not erase what came before. It builds on it. It acknowledges the mistakes, honors the lessons, and chooses a better direction. This is why the ending of A Christmas Carol still resonates. Scrooge becomes more himself than he has been in years. His change feels complete because it reconnects him with his own heart.
A brand that allows itself to transform in this way does not become something new. It becomes something true. And that is the real work. Seeing the truth clearly enough to choose a different future, then taking the first step before the feeling fades.
The takeaway
Every brand will face its own version of these three ghosts at some point. The past will remind it of the spark that started everything. The present will hold up a mirror, showing what is working and what has drifted. The future will reveal the direction it is heading, whether anyone has acknowledged it or not.
The brands that grow stronger are the ones willing to look. They do not wait for a crisis. They do not hide behind habit. They choose reflection over inertia and truth over comfort. That is where real change comes from.
At ThoughtLab, we see this pattern often. A brand reaches a moment when something feels off, even if no one can quite name it. Once the story is examined with honesty and care, the path forward becomes clearer than it has been in years. The work becomes easier. The message becomes sharper. The brand feels alive again.
The transformation does not happen because of ghosts. It happens because someone finally chooses to see the whole picture. And once you see it, you cannot unsee it. You can only decide what kind of future you want to build.
