Who Won the Pizza Wars?

An Analysis of National Pizza Chain Marketing Strategies. 

And the Women Who Love Them.

by Andy Tyer

Editor’s Note: Andy Tyer has never worked in the pizza industry. He’s never had a pizza company as a client; he’s never written a single marketing word about pizza. In fact, this article was only written after he stumbled onto the Pizza Marketplace website by mistake (stupid banner ads), and it got him thinking.   

On the other hand, the guy’s a wiz at strategic marketing, AND he loves pizza. 
So, there you go.

In 1965 Pizza Hut launched its first nationally-televised commercial.

Yes, it was a rip-off of The Benny Hill Show, but it also marked the beginning of a half-century-long crusade to win America’s heart through its stomach. Domino’s and Papa John's joined in, and they’ve been sparring for your loyalty and cash ever since.

Yet with all the innovation in the industry (from stuffed-crusts to online ordering), the Big Three have found themselves exactly where they were 20 years ago. The pecking order hasn’t changed. Pizza Hut is still number one. Domino’s bats second with Papa John's a distant third. And with more and more local and regional pizza places nibbling at their share, what’s a poor little pizza behemoth to do? 

This would be my kind of Pizza Wars. Better firepower, better pizza. 

If we examine their current marketing strategies, it appears they each have their own unique formula for success:

Pizza Hut

Pizza Hut double-downed on Millennials. It revamped its menu to include a slew of gourmet pizza varieties the company thought Millennials would like, including Skinny Pizzas.

Check out the name. "Introducing Pizza Hut's newest topping - naughty puns!"

Pizza Hut then updated its branding and fell overly-in-love with the color black because, you know, Millennials like that color way better than red roofs. But in trying so hard to attract the M crowd, the brand lost a part of its true self, leaving us all wondering, “Where did my Pizza Hut go?”

Papa John's

Nearly a decade ago, Papa John's began to focus on the fundamentals. And it hasn’t strayed from it. Better ingredients, better pizza. The company’s approach has a deliberate wholesomeness to it that has only been augmented with the addition of NFL quarterback and future president of the United States Peyton Manning as its co-spokesperson with founder John Schnatter.

I just wish the television budget had included some acting lessons for Papa; if they gave a Razzie Award for TV commercials, he’d have to make some room on his mantel. But bad acting doesn’t automatically equate to bad pizza. Or bad pizza marketing, for that matter.

And to anyone who disagrees, I have two words: Dave Thomas.

Domino’s

Domino’s has made the biggest departure from its roots. And maybe that’s because its roots were arguably planted in rocky soil to begin with. Did you know Domino’s has been around almost as long as Pizza Hut? We’re talking about a company that’s over 50 years old. Yet the closest it ever came to taking down the Hut was with The ‘Noid. You remember The ‘Noid, don’t you?

The 'Noid was decommissioned by the end of the '80s. But since 2009, Domino’s has made some serious headway in sales and market share, due in no small part to a risky marketing play: it acknowledged its failures, and it vowed to become better.

Like a celebrity coming out of rehab, Domino's bared its soul to the entire country--and we bought it! Americans love a flawed hero. And we found one in our pizza, of all places.

Which marketing strategy worked best?

So, how have consumers reacted to these unique marketing approaches? Brace yourself, I feel an analogy coming on:

Pretend the world is a nightclub. And you, the American pizza-eating public, are an attractive woman sitting at the bar. The Big Three pizza makers are the playahs in search of a hottie willing to take them home for the night. 

Like it or not, somebody’s gonna get hit on.

Pizza Hut
Pizza Hut is wearing a fancy suit, and he orders you a drink you’ve never heard of. You’re intrigued, but there’s something not quite right about him: the more he talks, the more you realize he’s just telling you what you want to hear. You volunteer at the animal shelter; he does, too. You say you’re disenchanted with American politics; he tells you he never votes anymore.

He mirrors your body language in an unnatural way; it’s more like he’s consciously copying your movements. And it’s weird, because that’s what you imagine serial killers would do.

Red flags are going off like gangbusters in your head—all because he lacks authenticity. So, you fake an incoming phone call and pretend it’s your mother. Whoops, she just broke her hip. Sorry, Pizza Hut. Gotta go.

"Hey, baby, my crust isn't the only thing that's stuffed."

Papa John's
Then Papa John's shuffles in and sits down next to you. He’s cute, he’s polite, and his plaid shirt with jeans and boots make a nice, if not rustic, ensemble.

He orders you a glass of wine—and a glass of milk for himself. He talks about how he loves working on the farm and and living with his parents, "'cause they're just so gosh-darn fun to be around." He tells you the name of his tractor is 'Lucille.' He’s a genuinely nice guy, even if it seems he just escaped from an episode of The Andy Griffith Show.  

No warning signs are going off, just yet. But, jeez, he’s kind of boring. Do you really want to spend the night with this guy? Bye-bye, Papa Johns. It's past your bedtime. 

"I used to have a roommate, but my Mom moved to Florida."

Domino's
Domino’s is dressed in an Oxford button-down shirt and jeans with a pair of buffed Cole Haan loafers. His sleeves are rolled up; elegant-casual, they call it.

When he talks to you, he looks into your eyes. He asks you questions, and not in that impersonal interview style; this guy really wants to get to know the real you. When he does talk about himself, he doesn’t sugar-coat it: he used to be an alcoholic, but he’s been on the wagon for five years. He’s doing Yoga, sees a therapist once a week, and he’s never felt better about himself.

Sure, he’s flawed, but the guy is genuine. He thanks you for the spirited conversation and asks if you’d like to join him for coffee next week.

"I have flaws, but my dashing good looks aren't among them."

We've got a winner!

So, which pizza guy will you Google-stalk on your smartphone? Which one gets to date you? Clearly, my vote is Domino’s. And here’s why:

• They leveled with us. “Our pizza sucks, and we’re sorry. We promise to do better.”
• They made a genuine attempt at improving. “Check it out, we hired this world-renown chef to teach us how to make a pizza that doesn’t make you hurl.”
• Most importantly, they’ve taken action to overcome the biggest barrier every pizza brand faces:
  “If you don’t like the taste of our new and improved pizza, there ain’t jack squat we can do about it. So, we’re going to focus on pleasing the people who already love us. The rest of you can join us or not. No biggie.”

Instead of just slap-fighting Pizza Hut and Papa John's for household penetration, Domino’s is also actively increasing its basket share with the people who already order its food. And they’re doing it by offering more that just boneless wings or desserts that look suspiciously like pizza.

It looks like a pizza, but it doesn't taste like a pizza. Is this the work of ISIS?

Specialty chicken dishes. Oven-baked sandwiches. Online ordering--via Twitter! Talk about knowing your audience. Domino’s is building brand loyalty by finally being loyal to its customers. And isn't that the characteristic we want most in our men AND in our pizza brands? 

Editor’s note: in the interest of full transparency, Andy Tyer’s number-one comfort food in the world is a Meatlover’s pan pizza—from Pizza Hut.