Buzz
The ultimate measure of marketing genius is persuading people to buy what they already own. During the 1980s, Barry Becher and Edward Valenti succeeded in selling countless kitchen knives to households that were already well-stocked with them.
Their creation was named the Ginsu.
A Step Ahead
Ginsu knife commercials showcased the blade slicing through tin cans, wood blocks, and even tomatoes and bread with precision. Viewers were offered additional knives, a peeler, and a fork for just $9.95. The knife’s Japanese-inspired appeal, despite being manufactured in Ohio, made it an enticing purchase.
During the 1970s, America was captivated by Japanese culture. James Clavell’s novel Shōgun, set in feudal Japan, became a bestseller, while films like The Yakuza explored Japanese themes. Japanese steakhouses brought theatrical dining experiences to cities. Against the backdrop of political disillusionment from the Watergate scandal and the Vietnam War, the samurai’s ethical code resonated deeply.
Becher and Valenti met in 1975 under serendipitous circumstances. Becher, from Warwick, Rhode Island, ran Aamco transmission shops, while Valenti, an NBC executive, approached him about advertising. Their partnership led to the creation of Dial Media, a marketing firm focused on products ideal for TV pitches.
The era was ripe for innovation. Companies like K-Tel, known for album compilations, and personalities like Ron Popeil were pioneering the infomercial format. These extended commercials allowed marketers to demonstrate products directly to viewers, evolving from traditional street and carnival sales tactics.
Becher and Valenti discovered a knife produced by the Scott Fetzer Company in Fremont, Ohio. Its unique serrated edge, sharpest at the tip, made it versatile for kitchen tasks. What stood out was the company’s ability to mass-produce the knives quickly, unlike competitors who took months. At just 75 cents wholesale, it was a perfect fit for their vision.
The issue? Ultimately, it was simply an ordinary kitchen knife. However, Becher and Valenti recognized the chance to build a narrative around it. Rather than marketing it as an American product, they explored branding it as foreign-made. Ideas like French chefs or German steel were considered, but they ultimately chose Japan. While naming it the Samurai Set was debated, they opted for Ginsu—a fabricated term evoking Japanese tradition and subtly hinting at the qualities of a samurai sword.
Act Immediately ...
Becher and Valenti brought in Arthur Schiff, a renowned copywriter who developed a compelling sales script. (Schiff once asserted he coined the name Ginsu, though Valenti admitted it was hard to recall who originated it.) Schiff penned legendary infomercial phrases like “Act now and you’ll also receive …” and “How much would you pay?” Most notably, he introduced the unforgettable “There’s more …” (The “But wait” was a later addition.)
Launched in 1978, the two-minute Ginsu commercial is a masterpiece of concise marketing. A man (actually Valenti) in a karate gi splits a wooden board with his hands but struggles with a tomato, highlighting the need for a precise tool. The Ginsu effortlessly handles vegetables, paper, and even frozen food packages. The offer grows increasingly enticing as the ad progresses.
“How much would you pay for a knife like this?” the narrator inquires. “Before you decide, listen.”
Order now, and you’ll receive six steak knives, a versatile 6-in-1 kitchen gadget, a potato spiral cutter, and a carving fork. Still hesitant? Shipping is free. Need more convincing? The blade comes with a 50-year warranty. If that’s not enough, the Ginsu was available COD—cash on delivery—in the growing world of direct marketing.
“We need to drive instant action,” Valenti explained to Scripps-Howard News Service in 1983, describing their bold sales strategy. “The commercial must be compelling enough to make viewers either call or mail a check. You’re asking for 120 seconds of their time, so it better be engaging.” The ad delivered on all fronts.
But Wait, There’s More ...
While Becher and Valenti marketed other items, like the splatter-proof Miracle Painter, nothing matched the triumph of the Ginsu and its follow-up, Ginsu II—a $19.95 knife set launched in 1980 to keep the brand fresh. Between 1978 and 1985, they sold $30 million worth of knives. The ads, which aired relentlessly, showcased the knife’s ability to slice bread so thinly “it was nearly transparent,” a claim few could resist.
The commercials—which Dial Media acquired at a rate surpassing even Coca-Cola’s—relentlessly convinced viewers to add another knife to their collection. They created a demand and provided an instant solution, a strategy that became a cornerstone of direct-to-consumer marketing. The only complaints came from parents, who wrote to Dial Media about their kids ruining tomatoes by trying to karate-chop them. (The tomato was later replaced with a watermelon in ads.) At its peak, nearly 80% of Americans were familiar with the Ginsu.
The triumph of the Ginsu enabled Becher and Valenti to sell Dial Media to Warren Buffett’s Berkshire Hathaway in 1985. (Valenti continues his marketing career under his PriMedia umbrella; Schiff passed away in 2006, and Becher in 2012.)
The 1980s didn’t mark the end of Ginsu’s cultural influence. Though sales declined, the knife became a nostalgic reference in shows like Seinfeld, The Sopranos, and The Tonight Show With Johnny Carson. It even appeared on Saturday Night Live, where Joe Piscopo, playing Ronald Reagan, joked, “Vote for me, and I’ll throw in a set of Ginsu knives.”
Most notoriously, the Ginsu gained unwanted attention when Lorena Bobbitt allegedly used it to sever her husband John Wayne Bobbitt’s penis in 1993. The fact that reporters used Ginsu as a generic term for any kitchen knife, despite it likely being a different brand, highlighted the knife’s iconic status.
In 2005, Ginsu experienced a revival with a new commercial showcasing the knife slicing through a key. The product began appearing on Amazon, in Sears, and on QVC, where Valenti demonstrated its capabilities. In 2009, a street in Warwick was dedicated as Ginsu Way.
The brand remains robust, selling knives and even honoring replacements for purchases dating back to 1978. While packaging and shipping are handled in Walnut Ridge, Arkansas, the knives are now primarily manufactured abroad.
Further Reading: The Wisdom of Ginsu
