Sample Interview
The Illusion of Trust: A Conversation with Rory Sutherland
Rory Sutherland is Senior VP of Ogilvy, columnist for The Spectator, author of several renowned books and a wonderful character.
Trust, as it turns out, is a fragile currency. In modern economics, we often take it for granted, assuming its presence, though it rarely manifests in its purest form. Rory Sutherland, Senior VP of Ogilvy with an interest in behavioral , is quick to dispel any illusions about the fundamental role trust plays in commerce and marketing. “The great crime of economics,” he begins with the confidence of someone who has thought long and hard about this, “is to assume perfect information and perfect trust.” He pauses for effect, as if to let the absurdity of the assumption sink in.

In Sutherland’s view, the consequences of this misjudgment ripple through the entire system. For instance, economists often view marketing as a cost—an unnecessary burden—rather than an integral part of the transaction. And yet, it is marketing, specifically branding, that anchors trust in an uncertain world. “People don’t buy brands because they think they’re better,” Sutherland explains. “They buy them because they’re more certain they won’t be bad.”
It’s a phrase as pithy as it is profound, echoing a sentiment first uttered by Joel Rafelson in the 1960s, and one that Sutherland holds dear. Trust, in this context, isn’t just about the product itself; it’s about the reliability of experience. The act of purchasing, he suggests, is less about optimizing utility and more about minimizing risk.
The McDonald’s Paradox
Sutherland offers McDonald’s as a case in point. “McDonald’s isn’t the most successful restaurant chain in the world because it’s really good,” he says with a grin. “It’s because it’s incredibly good at not being bad.” Therein lies the genius of the Golden Arches: consistency, predictability, and a promise that, no matter where you are, you’ll get exactly what you expect. It’s a far cry from the hit-or-miss nature of Michelin-starred restaurants, where a culinary high can quickly turn into a regrettable low.
“You know what you’re getting with McDonald’s,” Sutherland continues. “You won’t get sick, the prices will be reasonable, and the bathrooms will be clean.” The power of branding, he argues, lies in its ability to reduce variance in decision-making. And in an uncertain world, that reduction is often worth more than the fleeting thrill of gourmet perfection.
The Trust Premium
Sutherland is quick to point out that trust doesn’t just reside in the product itself—it’s reinforced by the perceptions of others. “We care about second-order intelligence,” he says, shifting the conversation to the broader social implications of trust. It’s not just about what we think, but what others think. Buy a Ford and it breaks down? That’s bad luck. Buy an Alfa Romeo and it breaks down? That’s your fault for not choosing the Ford in the first place.
It’s a dynamic that governs both consumer and corporate decisions. “No one ever got fired for buying IBM,” Sutherland quips, highlighting the role of reputation in reducing the perceived risk of failure. In the world of brands, the stakes are high. Companies like Samsung, for instance, have far more to lose from a faulty product than an unknown competitor. “That’s why even when you’re buying a TV from a guy in the pub,” he says with a chuckle, “he’ll still tell you it’s a Samsung.”
The Authenticity of Flaws
Paradoxically, one of the most effective ways to build trust is through the acknowledgment of imperfection. Sutherland points out the famous ‘pratfall effect’. This is the tendency for interpersonal appeal to change after an individual makes a mistake, depending on the individual’s perceived competence. Admitting to a flaw, he argues, can make a brand—or a person—seem more authentic. He recalls iconic advertising campaigns that embraced this tactic: Avis’s “We try harder,” they’re basically admitting they are number 2 – Guinness’s “Good things come to those who wait,” that makes fun of the fact that it takes ages to pour the thing, or Stella Artois’s “Reassuringly expensive.” Each of these slogans, in its own way, admits to a shortcoming while turning it into a strength.
Sutherland illustrates the point with a story about Jay Leno. Leno, a known car enthusiast, once called McLaren to inquire about buying an F1. When he mentioned his preference for ceramic brakes, the McLaren representative responded, “if you’re driving it mostly on the street, you don’t want those brakes. They take too long to warm up.” Those brakes are seriously expensive, so the salesperson is getting a worse deal. But by saving Leno $25,000, the salesperson instantly gained his trust. “That’s how you build a relationship,” Sutherland says. “You’re not just maximizing profit—you’re maximizing the customer’s value.”
The Decline of Trust in the Digital Age
Despite these age-old truths about trust and branding, Sutherland is concerned that we’re moving in the wrong direction. The rise of digital bureaucracy, with its obsession for compliance and quantification, is eroding the high-trust cultures of countries like the UK and the Netherlands. “What used to be a handshake is now a series of forms to sign and stamps to collect,” he laments. “We’re creating Soviet-style capitalism.”
Technology, Sutherland fears, is fostering a low-trust environment, particularly through the proliferation of procurement processes and AI-driven customer service. He’s especially critical of the trend toward replacing human interaction with chatbots. “I spent half an hour with my bank this morning, navigating their automated system,” he says with exasperation. “It’s a catastrophe. My trust in the entire category has been eroded.”
For Sutherland, trust isn’t just transactional—it’s relational. Brands that invest in customer service, that go beyond the sale to care about the longevity of their relationship with the customer, are the ones that thrive. “Trust carries over from one transaction to the next,” he says. “It’s the bedrock of economic development, and without it, everything falls apart.”
The Brand as a Trust Technology
At the core of Sutherland’s philosophy is the belief that brands are, in essence, trust technologies. They’re shorthand for reliability, a signal to consumers that, in a world full of uncertainty, this one thing can be counted on. “In a zero-trust economy,” he muses, “every transaction is like a ransom negotiation.” Indeed, who is to guarantee that the kidnap-victim will be released when the money is paid, and for the kidnapper, what’s to guarantee him that he won’t be arrested, the moment he collects the payment?
But when you walk into a store and buy a known brand, with a guarantee, you’re engaging in a high-trust transaction. “That’s why the diminishment of brand advertising is so dangerous,” he says. “And it’s why the investment in customer service is so crucial.”
As the conversation winds down, Sutherland leaves me with one final thought, one that feels particularly poignant in our increasingly digital age. “The future of business,” he says, “won’t be won by those who cut costs and automate everything. It will be won by those who understand the human need for trust.”