外企為何需要適應(yīng)印度國(guó)情？

I rose before dawn in Mumbai recently to watch the city’s newspaper vendors get ready for their rounds. Scores of men were squatting under the arches near the historic railway station, sorting thousands of papers in some 20 languages into teetering metre-high stacks, for distribution by bicycle. The sellers commit each complex order to memory, not a computer algorithm in sight.

最近的一天，我在破曉前起床，看著孟買的報(bào)商為當(dāng)日的送報(bào)工作做準(zhǔn)備。幾十個(gè)男人蹲在具有歷史意義的火車站附近的拱門下，將大約20種文字的數(shù)千份報(bào)紙整理成許多一米來(lái)高、搖搖欲墜的小堆，以便用自行車送報(bào)。這些賣家將一筆筆復(fù)雜的訂單記在心里，這里沒(méi)有計(jì)算機(jī)算法的任何蹤影。

For anyone who started in print journalism, as I did, it is an exciting scene. But as a first-time visitor to the country, I also felt that the order-out-of-chaos underlined the challenge for foreign multinationals seeking to profit from India’s fabulous, fragmented, far-flung consumer market. As one consultant I met said: “The company that comes to India and is waiting for India to fix things is going to fail. The company that comes and marvels about how India has survived is going to do much better.”

對(duì)我這樣從印刷傳媒業(yè)開(kāi)始職業(yè)生涯的人，這一幕令人興奮。但作為一個(gè)首次到訪印度的人，我也感覺(jué)到這種混亂中的秩序凸顯出尋求從印度巨大、碎片化和地域廣闊的消費(fèi)者市場(chǎng)中獲利的外國(guó)跨國(guó)公司所面臨的挑戰(zhàn)。就如我遇到的一名咨詢師所說(shuō)的：“那些來(lái)到印度，等待印度搞定一切的公司會(huì)失敗。那些來(lái)到印度，驚嘆印度是如何生存下來(lái)的公司會(huì)做得更好。”

Such acts of tolerance and flexibility are hard for some big companies to carry off. For years, many have glibly summed up their strategy by touting versions of the “think global, act local” mantra. Only a few have made it work, among them Nokia, until it started concentrating too much power at its headquarters, and Nestlé, whose Maggi noodles were successful enough to attract Indian food inspectors’ unwelcome attention last year.

這種寬容和靈活態(tài)度對(duì)一些大公司來(lái)說(shuō)難以做到。多年來(lái)，許多大公司把自己的戰(zhàn)略夸夸其談地總結(jié)為不同版本的“全球化思考，本地化行動(dòng)”箴言。只有為數(shù)不多的幾家公司真正讓這條策略奏效，其中包括諾基亞(Nokia)，那是在該公司開(kāi)始將過(guò)多權(quán)力集中于總部之前;還有就是雀巢(Nestlé)，去年該公司旗下的美極(Maggi)方便面因?yàn)樵谟《仁袌?chǎng)太成功而招致印度食品檢驗(yàn)機(jī)構(gòu)不受歡迎的關(guān)注。

As the complexity of newspaper distribution suggests, with its extraordinary logistical challenges (think of doing this job in a monsoon), “acting local” is not as simple as it sounds. For a start, which “local”?

就如印度報(bào)紙配送的復(fù)雜性所表明的，由于不同尋常的物流挑戰(zhàn)(想象一下在雨季送報(bào)的工作吧)，“本地化行動(dòng)”不像聽(tīng)上去那么簡(jiǎn)單。首先，哪個(gè)“本地”?

“There’s so little standardisation: every region has something that defines it,” Amit Agarwal, who heads Amazon India, told me. “It’s like 25 different countries.”

“沒(méi)有什么標(biāo)準(zhǔn)化可言：每個(gè)地區(qū)都有一些屬于自己的特征，”亞馬遜印度(Amazon India)負(fù)責(zé)人阿米特•阿加瓦爾(Amit Agarwal)告訴我，“就像有25個(gè)不同國(guó)家似的。”

Amazon — locked in combat with Indian competitors Flipkart and Snapdeal — is confident its wide selection will open Indian consumers’ wallets. Mr Agarwal boasts he has brought guinea-pig food to small towns without pet stores (raising the question: what were India’s guinea pigs eating until now?). You can order online a dozen varieties of cow dung (for religious rituals), local food delicacies and the specialised grinders and mixers for preparing them.

正與印度競(jìng)爭(zhēng)對(duì)手Flipkart和Snapdeal角力的亞馬遜相信，其提供的產(chǎn)品選擇范圍之廣，足以讓印度消費(fèi)者甘愿掏腰包。阿加瓦爾夸耀，他已經(jīng)把豚鼠糧引入到?jīng)]有寵物店的小城鎮(zhèn)(問(wèn)題來(lái)了：那么在這之前，印度的豚鼠吃什么?)。你可以在線訂購(gòu)十多種不同種類的牛糞(用于宗教儀式)、當(dāng)?shù)孛朗澈椭脗溥@些美食所需的特殊的粉碎機(jī)和攪拌機(jī)。

Small food suppliers’ ability to deal directly with faraway customers through online platforms means India might even “miss the processed food revolution altogether”, speculates Rama Bijapurkar, who advises companies on the consumer economy.

規(guī)模較小的食品供應(yīng)商能夠通過(guò)在線平臺(tái)直接與相距遙遠(yuǎn)的客戶打交道;為企業(yè)提供消費(fèi)經(jīng)濟(jì)方面的建議的拉馬•比加普卡爾(Rama Bijapurkar)推測(cè)，這意味著印度有可能“完全錯(cuò)過(guò)加工食品革命”。

On the same morning I visited the newspaper sellers I toured Mumbai’s fruit, vegetable, flower and fish markets. Their distribution system is literally run off the backs of workers earning 10 rupees — about 12p — per sack to manhandle produce. Multinationals rightly balk at trying to replace or tinker with that system. Companies working with a technology platform — Amazon, with its Amazon Now service, or Grofers, a homegrown start-up — piggyback on local stores that are already in the supply chain.

在參觀報(bào)商工作的同一天早上，我還參觀了孟買的水果、蔬菜、花卉和魚市場(chǎng)。它們的配送系統(tǒng)是在工人的背上運(yùn)行的，這些工人每背一包農(nóng)產(chǎn)品掙10盧比(約12便士)。理所應(yīng)當(dāng)?shù)兀鐕?guó)公司不太情愿嘗試替換這個(gè)系統(tǒng)或者對(duì)其進(jìn)行小修小補(bǔ)。依托技術(shù)平臺(tái)的企業(yè)——比如推出Amazon Now快遞服務(wù)的亞馬遜，或者印度本土初創(chuàng)企業(yè)Grofers——借助已經(jīng)在供應(yīng)鏈上的當(dāng)?shù)厣啼亖?lái)開(kāi)展業(yè)務(wù)。

Fear of complexity may be one reason some multinationals shy away from or misread India. But in one sense, they are not misreading it at all. The top fifth of India’s 1.3bn citizens earn as much as the next 60 per cent, although the disposable income of the top 20 per cent is nearly four times as great.

對(duì)復(fù)雜性的恐懼或許是一些跨國(guó)公司回避或者誤讀印度的一個(gè)原因。但在某種層面上，它們或許根本沒(méi)有誤讀。印度13億人口中，收入最高的20%的人的收入與排在其后60%的人的收入相當(dāng)，盡管前者的可支配收入是后者的近4倍之多。

In short, it is perfectly rational for multinationals not to bother acting local for the bottom billion. The megabrand strategy that works well for them in developed markets can cream off the sort of high-spending consumers targeted by the house-sized advertising hoardings that lord it over Mumbai’s stall-cluttered streets.

簡(jiǎn)言之，對(duì)跨國(guó)公司而言，不費(fèi)心針對(duì)處于底層的10億人采取本地化策略是完全理性的。在發(fā)達(dá)市場(chǎng)對(duì)這些企業(yè)管用的大品牌戰(zhàn)略，在印度有望吸引高消費(fèi)人群，屹立在孟買攤位雜亂的街道上的巨幅廣告牌瞄準(zhǔn)的正是這一群體。

“If you ask ‘What’s the market [if I] sweat my existing model and assets,’ you still have a fairly large number,” Ms Bijapurkar points out.

“如果你問(wèn)‘(如果我)運(yùn)用我現(xiàn)有的模式和資產(chǎn)，市場(chǎng)會(huì)是什么樣子’，答案是你依然擁有相當(dāng)多的客戶，”比加普卡爾指出。

Tailoring strategy to local conditions is also hard and potentially costly work. Bhavish Aggarwal, founder of Ola, the local ride-hailing company fighting Uber, says you need to “build the infrastructure of your industry” — which is why Ola is buying cars and training drivers. “In India, you can’t be a disrupter because nothing exists: we have to be a creator,” he says, in a jab at his notoriously disruptive US rival.

按照當(dāng)?shù)厍闆r量身定做策略也很困難，而且有可能代價(jià)高昂。與優(yōu)步(Uber)競(jìng)爭(zhēng)的當(dāng)?shù)卣熊嚬綩la的創(chuàng)始人巴維什•阿加沃爾(Bhavish Aggarwal)說(shuō)，你需要“建立起你所在行業(yè)的基礎(chǔ)設(shè)施”——這就是Ola購(gòu)置車輛，培訓(xùn)司機(jī)的原因。“在印度，你不可能成為擾亂者，因?yàn)槭裁炊疾淮嬖冢何覀儾坏貌怀蔀閯?chuàng)造者，”他說(shuō)。此言是在暗諷以擾亂市場(chǎng)著稱的美國(guó)競(jìng)爭(zhēng)對(duì)手優(yōu)步。

By not adapting, however, foreign companies risk missing a very large trick. Data collected by Ms Bijapurkar suggest that over the 10 years to 2013-14, the income of the poorest 20 per cent of Indian households grew annually at more than triple the rate of the richest fifth and will continue to grow almost as fast in the years ahead.

然而，如果不去適應(yīng)當(dāng)?shù)?，外?guó)公司有錯(cuò)失大量業(yè)務(wù)的風(fēng)險(xiǎn)。比加普卡爾收集的數(shù)據(jù)似乎表明，在截至2013-14年度的10年里，印度最貧困20%家庭的收入增長(zhǎng)速度是最富裕20%家庭的3倍，而未來(lái)幾年還將大致保持這樣的增速。

Poorer consumers will always aspire to dearer brands. Some will start buying them. But the opportunity is such that local companies and Chinese suppliers are already expanding by appealing to Indian customers ignored by multinationals and by serving their local tastes better. By the time haughtier multinationals wake up to the rest of India, it could be too late.

更貧困的消費(fèi)者總會(huì)向往更昂貴的品牌。一些人將會(huì)開(kāi)始購(gòu)買它們。但這個(gè)機(jī)會(huì)如此誘人，以至于當(dāng)?shù)仄髽I(yè)和中國(guó)供應(yīng)商已經(jīng)在擴(kuò)張，以吸引跨國(guó)公司忽視的印度消費(fèi)者，并且更好地服務(wù)于他們的品味。當(dāng)更加自負(fù)的跨國(guó)公司認(rèn)識(shí)到印度還有大量消費(fèi)者值得迎合，可能已經(jīng)為時(shí)太晚。