There is a thought experiment in philosophy that asks “at what point is a ship no longer the same ship?” If many boards are replaced, is it still the same vessel? What if most or all of the boards are new?
The question occurred to me when I was attending The Lettermen concert. For those too young to know, The Lettermen was a chart-topping musical trio in the 1960s and 1970s. While two of the three original members have died and the other is semi-retired, new members still perform under The Lettermen name and even count their recorded albums as part of a continuous legacy. The modern group’s bio reads: “For more than 50 years, The Lettermen have kept the meaning of harmony alive…” yet one of these men has only been with the group for three years. Somehow, this seems like a tribute band and not THE Lettermen.
The same thing recently happened with a Duke Ellington Orchestra performance. Although the Duke himself has been dead since 1974, the orchestra bills itself as “carrying on the tradition” because relatives are involved in musical selection and conducting so they are adamant that it is an extension of the original. I guess only a few “boards” have been replaced on the Duke Ellington ship while The Lettermen have replaced them all. At what point is it misleading to call it the same ship?
Certainly, the products and services you offer will continue to evolve — but let the old name phase out and allow a new identity to occur. While it’s tempting to retain a beloved and profitable brand name, resist the temptation to call it the original when that no longer exists.
