Investigating ‘purist’ organizations motivations—can they survive in a world of compromise?

For centuries, the Roncal Valley, in the Navarrese Pyrenees, has pleased the world’s palates through the unique cheese that bears its name. The first Spanish cheese to receive Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) status, Roncal owes its signature piquant bouquet to a closely guarded production process, which has historically used the milk of an indigenous breed of sheep called the latxa. This breed, named after the Basque word for “sour,” is productive enough to satisfy the artisanal needs of the local cheese-making industry.

Problems arose, however, when some family farms in adjoining villages began importing assaf sheep from Israel, which could yield more—about seven times more—milk with far less labor. From a profit-driven perspective, replacing the homely latxa with the powerhouse assaf would appear a no-brainer.

Indeed, the Roncal Regulatory Council, with strong representation by the cheese processors, successfully appealed to the European Union to open the PDO to include cheese produced with assaf milk. But the farmers of Roncal protested, winning the next Council elections, and successfully lobbied the EU to rescind the inclusion of assaf milk.

On the surface, centuries-old cheese-making traditions in a remote valley in northern Spain might seem worlds apart from modern business practice. But Sarah Wittman, assistant professor of management at the Donald G. Costello College of Business at George Mason University, argues that the Roncal farmers represent a common type of organizational activity overlooked by past researchers.

Her recent paper in Organizational Theory, co-authored by Frédéric Godart of INSEAD, investigates what motivates “purist” organizations, like the Roncal cheese artisans, for whom success is not entirely defined by market-driven metrics.

Speaking of the world-renowned Trappist monks, who brew what many claim is the best-tasting beer in the world out of monasteries in Belgium and the Netherlands, Wittman explains, “They’re not doing it because they’re in the market. They’re doing it because that’s what enables them to be monks.”

At the same time, they take great pride in their ales because the quality of their product is bound up with their religious vocation. Wittman summarizes their working ethos as, “I brew beer as a religious object, and I’m going to give everything to it because this is my religious task.”

Purists, then, march to a very different drummer than more “rational,” or conventional, organizations. Instead of crafting a brand identity to woo consumers, purists find fulfillment through activity that affirms their firmly held sense of self. While they will go to great lengths to preserve their purity when it is threatened, they will not take a single step that would possibly compromise their integrity.

Wittman’s paper teases out how purism can affect organizational structure, strategy and success. The researchers posit that a compartmentalized structure may emerge within larger organizations, whereby pockets of purism are allowed to exist amid more conventionally motivated businesses. An example would be the most innovative R&D units at 3M, which are largely insulated from market pressures so as to safeguard their creativity.

The researchers further theorize that because purists’ real motivation—affirming their sense of identity—often has little to do with the business they happen to be in (e.g. monks brewing beer), purists are more likely to be game-changers in their field, rather than following established industry practice.

For purists to be successful in the marketplace, they need to find an appreciative audience that doesn’t mistake their scruples for snobbery. Tastemakers in relevant fields, whose refined sensibilities respond well to purism, can make a big difference by conferring higher status upon purists. This, in turn, can help influence the opinions of consumers, shareholders, etc.

Additionally, purists can let their results speak for them, as with the Trappist monks. Ordinary beer-drinkers may or may not care about the monks’ religious devotion, but will nonetheless pay a premium for a beverage that meets the highest taste standards.

However, purists can attract contempt if their way of working is seen to conflict with basic norms that the audience holds dear. ESG investment funds which follow a social rather than capitalist logic, for example, have alienated some in the conventional finance world for upholding a set of standards perceived to deviate from the core task of making money. One could imagine that an NGO whose purism centered around chasing big-money donors instead of providing services would be condemned just as readily.

Wittman hopes her research will widen the scope of conversations around the organizational mission and meaningful work. “We cannot explain everything with this market-economy survival motive, because there exists a logic outside of that.

“What we most often study (and teach) in business schools is that everyone succumbs to the market and plays the competitive positioning game or goes out of business. But if purists have enough power, gain enough status, then there is this bolstering of support that says either they’re legitimate or they’re authentic—then they’re the ones who create the market.”