Chapter 5 discusses the “whitepaper” or prospectus regime in Titles II–IV MiCA and compares it to the Prospectus Regulation. Following an introduction to the objectives, applicable legislation, and the risk-based differentiation of the prospectus rules, Section 5.3 covers the scope of MiCA’s prospectus rules. Section 5.4 explains the prospectus procedure, including the obligation to publish a prospectus, obliged entities, the approval and publication processes, along with expiration, updating, modification, and supplementing of the prospectus. Section 5.5 addresses the content and form of the prospectus, Section 5.6 the liability for information in the prospectus, and finally, Section 5.7 covers the EU-wide application of the prospectus (EU passport).

This chapter treats the marketing of transatlantic passenger shipping companies from the post-Famine period to the emergence of amphibious aviation at the end of the Free State era. It explores the use of evolving advertising, marketing and public relations techniques, collectively commercial propaganda, in the USA on the transatlantic passenger shipping trade. It compares and contrasts the commercial propaganda of American shipping lines with that of their British and Irish counterparts to determine the degree to which American marketing techniques influenced domestic marketing, shaped consumer tastes and stimulated desire for an American life experience that was grounded in participatory civic consumerism. The chapter suggests that the reverse flow of knowledge and practices, stimulated by temporary and permanent reverse migration, and correspondence with Irish-America, led to the post-Famine modernisation of commercial promotional activity, with attractive communications from America copied by shipping lines and agents in the Irish market to create a domestic, Americanised form of marketing, more sophisticated and polished than previously seen.

Guitar shop showrooms are museums of design. As visitors walk by rows of instruments, they encounter a tactile history of popular music. However, shoppers may notice that the majority of electric guitars available in the modern marketplace are strikingly similar. While there are certainly instances of radically new styles, they are outnumbered by instruments that resemble mid-twentieth century designs, such as the Fender Stratocaster and the Gibson Les Paul. This chapter explores moments in electric guitar design history that speak to marketplace tensions between historical consciousness and innovation. There is a widespread belief that the electric guitar was perfected half a century ago. Therefore, new design choices must be in conversation with the past. Success stories—such as Fender’s Custom Shop series—rely upon such historical nods. Design flops—such as Gibson’s “G-Force” automatic tuner—fail because they innovate beyond what buyers are willing to accept. So, is the electric guitar dead, as some commentators have proclaimed? I argue that the instrument is in a persistent state of rebirth as new models move forwards by looking backwards.

This chapter delves into the challenges and opportunities surrounding the use of non-fungible tokens (NFTs) as a marketing tool. It explores how advertising and marketing have undergone a transformative shift in the 2020s, fueled by user-generated content and advancements in technology. The rise of the Creator Economy and the significant role of NFTs within this ecosystem are thoroughly examined. The chapter places a specific focus on the connection between NFTs and consumers, with an emphasis on early adopters and younger generations such as Gen Z (born between 1996 and 2010) and Gen Alpha (born between 2011 and 2025) consumers. It delves into their preferences, perspectives, and interests in NFTs, while taking into account the broader landscape of the evolving Creator Economy. Ultimately, the chapter advocates for marketers to understand the immense potential of NFTs and embrace consumer empowerment. By doing so, they can navigate the Web 3.0 era effectively and harness the power of NFTs to drive engagement and establish meaningful connections with their target audience.

No foreign humanitarian organization garnered more support from Americans during (and after) World War I than did the Fatherless Children of France Society. From New York City, the Franco-American private philanthropic organization rapidly raised a wave of humanitarian response for the children of France’s war dead, doing so through strategic communication and tireless networking. Members of the FCFS toured US cities, states, and territories, opening chapters and addressing assembled crowds, constantly collecting funds. Speakers vividly described the plight of starving babies in devastated France and invited those who had witnessed the trauma of children to testify. Much of the campaigning was done by women representing local committees. Americans were offered a choice on how to spend their humanitarian dollars. From the moment they became sponsors, they could be involved in the process of selecting their orphans. Most importantly, the FCFS reached the wealthy, middle, and working classes alike. In involving school children, laborers, and members of churches, clubs, and associations, the FCFS encouraged a spirit of cooperative – and sometimes competitive – humanitarianism. As a result, the FCFS mobilized large sections of US society to “adopt” some 300,000 French children who were victims of war and kept the aid flowing from 1915 to 1921.

This chapter is about how a composer can reach their audience. It thinks about marketing in broad terms, understanding the music industry in terms of networks and communities, as well as addressing topics like making and releasing recordings, best practice on social media, building a website and engaging with the press.

Chapter 8 analyzes the marketing of inkiko gacaca; that is, the RPF’s effort to create demand for its invented tradition. By revealing a series of tactics related to this marketing strategy, the book here sheds light on the manufacturing of consent about the meaning of transitional justice in post-genocide Rwanda. The focus is on the presentation of law in everyday life, with particular reference to select localities.

Chapter 9 is an investigation of mythico-history, with a particular focus on the narrative construction of dictatorship. It tells a disturbing story of how and why, in post-genocide Rwanda, law became “a dramatically enacted thing.” To this end, the chapter analyzes the RPFs media campaign in support of the gacaca courts alongside its assault on international law.

The Presidential Advisory Panel on Land Reform and Agriculture (PAPLRA) (2019) argued that ‘land reform must be oriented around growing the agricultural sector to foster economic development, and not purely be an endeavour to transfer land’. Land reform should contribute to rural standards of living and national economic growth. The chapter briefly examines the relative success of commercial agriculture in recent years, despite policy and climatic uncertainties. It then explores challenges faced in smallholder agriculture and argues that joint ventures and partnerships may be one effective route for intensification of production and enhancement of rural incomes. In a context where state funding and capacity is limited, involvement by commodity organisations and private sector groupings, as well as NGOs, provides a promising way forward. It is possible to expand opportunities for commercial agriculture at the same time as drawing on skills and capital for land reform. Inputs, marketing routes and connectivity are important elements in enhancing smallholder production. Examples are taken from sugar, wool, fruit and dairy schemes that have absorbed tens of thousands of participants.

This chapter addresses the rapid increase in the consumption of white wines in the 1950s. It traces some of the changes to the efforts of the wine companies to develop the consumer market through brand building. But the breakthrough came with the perfection of the method of cool fermentation that permitted the preservation of the aromatic character of white wines. Boosted by innovations in the cellar, in the form of temperature-controlled stainless steel tanks, it became possible to produce wine of a reliable quality on an industrial scale. The chapter argues that while the KWV criticised the merchants, they worked with selected farmers to improve the quality of the wine. This was true of Stellenbosch Farmers’ Winery (SFW) and Distillers. The greater costs involved, however, led many farmers to resort to selling their grapes to the cooperatives rather than making their own wine. The chapter focuses on specifc farms like Rustenberg where it is possible to precisely date the turn to cool femerntation The importance of brand development is underlined through an account of the meteoric wise of SFW’s Lieberstein, which was reputedly the world’s largest brand in the early 1960s.

The chapter begins with an analysis of the KWV, which mimicked the operations of the state bureaucracy but was formally distinct from it. An anatomy of the KWV regulatory system is provided In order to achieve a better sense of how the interlocking parts worked together. There is a detailed discussion of the documentation that producers were required to supply each year to comply with the quota system. This is followed by an account of minimum pricing and surplus disposal which involved the surrender of distilling wine to the KWV which it used to make brandy. There is also a discussion of the Wine of Origin (WO) system which introduced a system of appellations, and the efforts of the wine merchants to tempt aspiring independent producerrs with the offer of access to marketing channels. This leads to a discussion of the contention over the designation of ’estate wines’ and the rather more successful effort to launch the Stellenbosch Wine Route. Finally, an account is offered of KWV efforts to control access to planting material.

This chapter focuses on the distribution of wine. It begins with a detailed account of the liquor wars that pitted Distillers against South African Breweries (SAB), which owned SFW, from the late 1950s. This culminated in a peace agreement in 1974 which left SAB with a beer monopoly and divided the wine and spirits market between SFW, Distillers and the KWV who owned shares in a new company, Cape Wine and Distillers (CWD). It is shown that the competition between SFW and Distillers remained intense. A detailed account follows of how the wine companies, and especially SFW, attempted to market wine to a black consumer market, initially through jazz promotions. It is argued that while the SFW invested in market research and advertising, it was trapped in a racialised way of reading consumer preferences. This is demonstrated with reference to high-, medium- and standard-priced wines. The SFW dominated the market for SP wines but because the real profits were in spirits, rather little of the advertising budget was directed towards black and Coloured consumers. This fed a self-fulfilling prophesy about the limits of the market for wine amongst ’non-whites’.