J&J's Red Cross Suit Sent (Mostly) Packing

Johnson & Johnson might have had better luck had it decided to introduce a line of baby itching powder or Band-Aids guaranteed to make the “ouch” even worse. As it stands, though, its decision last August to sue the Red Cross over use of the instantly recognizable symbol they both share has turned out to be a near-perfect disaster in its own right.

Late last week, a federal judge threw out most of J&J’s lawsuit, which claimed that the Red Cross infringed on J&J’s “red cross” trademark when the organization began licensing the loto to companies making hand sanitizer and first-aid kits. At the time, J&J said it had “no choice” but to file the lawsuit, even though it had shared use of the logo with the Red Cross for more than a century.

Judge Jed Rakoff disagreed, noting that the licensing deals supported the Red Cross’s charitable efforts and that J&J itself had struck a similar deal with the Red Cross in the past:

Judge Rakoff said the doubtfulness of Johnson & Johnson’s claim against the organization was “well illustrated by the ironic fact” that in 1986 the company itself entered into a similar promotional agreement with the Red Cross.

At that time, the company agreed to donate 5 cents to the Red Cross for coupons redeemed to buy company products. The coupons said: “Help Johnson & Johnson support the American Red Cross. For each purchase with the coupon below, Johnson & Johnson will donate 5 cents to the American Red Cross.”

A tiny sliver of the suit involving a J&J claim that the Red Cross interfered with two of its business relationships will continue, but for all intents and purposes, this particular corporate boondoggle is over. At the very least, it’s a useful cautionary tale of what happens when a corporation’s leadership begins sniffing its own fumes and mistaking them for the scent of roses.

Hat tip: Pharmalot

UPDATE: While I’m on the subject of J&J corporate hubris, I thought I’d take a moment to tip my hat to the company’s recently revamped Web site, which is easily the worst I’ve ever seen at a Fortune 500 company. In lieu of links to information that’s actually useful, some marketing genius at the company has organized the entire site into three almost wholly worthless categories — “Our Products,” “Our Caring,” and “Our Company” — the latter two of which lead to nothing but vacuous pap promoting J&J’s saintly self image. Even the “site map” — usually a pretty useful shortcut around the bovine effluvia to which many companies insist on subjecting their visitors — seems to have drunk whatever is passing for the Kool-Aid at J&J’s headquarters.

I spent close to 15 minutes scouring the site for any hint of a media center or an investor-relations section. Oddly enough, the “Our Company” section is big on “Our Positions,” “Our Credo Values,” “Our History” and “Our Management Approach,” but awfully light on anything relevant to “Our Press Releases” or “Our Shareholders.” Congratulations, J&J — you’ve elevated corporate buzzword obscurantism into an art form. It’s as if you had your entire site redecorated by the Church of Scientology.

In case you’re curious, links to both the press and investor sites turn out to be available in an easily overlooked navigation bar atop J&J’s main-banner menu — at least, easily overlooked by me — as well as buried in the fine, five-point type at the bottom of many pages.