Kirati Thepsoparn is a lover of classical music. So it seems natural to assign a classical tempo to his manner of discussing his other passion: marketing consultancy. Allegro assai - very cheerful and quick.

To continue the classical simile, there's a hint of the late virtuoso Arturo Toscanini in the way Kirati conducts his discussion of his vocation and duties in the esoteric and modern business of marketing. He leans over his huge teak work-table and delivers it with great, consistent energy and, doubtless, faithfulness.

"Come here. Let me show you something," says the co-founder and managing director of Vitamins Consulting and Research, just as the interview is coming to an end. With boyish glee, he walks into a room hidden in a corner of the minimalist office.

Past the whitish grey draperies stands a huge glass wall separating a row of desks from mock-up supermarket shelves.

Like secret agents in spy movies, researchers - and sometimes "the clients" - hunch at the desks, observe and take copious notes. Beyond the glass, seemingly unperturbed by the intense observation, a research subject glides about enacting her everyday behaviour, checking out the products, reading the labels, being a consumer.

Such a research method is just one among many - from in-depth interviews to ethnography - used by Vitamins to uncover the little gems known as consumer insights. Kirati believes that an understanding of consumers is fundamental to any marketing pursuit. He compares it to buying a gift for a friend.

If we understand our friend and what motivates her, then we will be able to predict the choices she will make and so select the correct gift, Kirati says.

This research methodology is claimed to be far superior to other approaches such as surveys and what Kirati characterises as "four-men-and-two-women" focus groups, whose results are often just facts and figures, incapable of going beyond this and into the realm of consumer insights.

A case in point: Kirati was recently entrusted with the task of finding out why about half of Indian housewives still refuse to use dishwashing liquid and instead endure hours of scrubbing, using ashes from cooking coals mixed with water. By delving into their minds, through a period of observation, Kirati stumbled upon a psychological barrier faced by many housewives.

The arranged marriages in which these women found themselves were demanding a constant need to prove their value through hard work, so the longer they spent on household chores, the better they could prove their worth, Kirati says. Although dishwashing liquid is inexpensive, many saw it as unnecessary - why waste their husbands' hard-earned money?

The marketing strategy required to overcome the touchy subject is one of convincing the Indian housewives that their dignity and worth will remain intact, even if they become converts to dishwashing liquid.

Such insights are hard to come by with even the most ingenious of focus groups - a marketing research method preferred by many professionals.

"With focus groups there are simply too many assumptions," Kirati says. "First, we assume that the participants are suitably intelligent. Secondly, that they have good memories and finally, that they are good at articulating all these complex feelings and thoughts."

As in all forms of scholarly and commercial endeavour, there is simply no room in market research for assumption. On this point, Kirati is adamant.

He says that the next frontier, where little reconnaissance has been done, is on the shop floor itself. "Shopper research is an open war game," he declares.

But back to the supermarket observation exercise: Vitamins' latest project involves studying Thai housewives in supermarkets, for instance, tracking which shelves they visit, in what order and for how long. The sessions are even carried out at the time of day and on the day of the week when the housewives normally engage in their routine shopping, just to stay faithful to their everyday behaviour. For marketing expert Kirati, the challenge is to sense and later exploit their constantly changing habits.

Kirati's passion for marketing, always grounded in nitty-gritty research, is contagious. It's a pity he wasn't around about a century ago, to ease the qualms of American merchant John Wanamaker, who said, famously: "Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don't know which half." With Kirati, there's little disputing that every satang of marketing budget pushes a product towards the sweet ka-ching of the cash register.

Having spent five years helping to launch more than 10 products at Unilever Thailand, Kirati knows what his clients want. Fresh from his undergraduate studies in politics and economics at the University of California, Los Angeles, Kirati was advised by Kannikar Chalitaporn, then heading Unilever Thai Trading's personal-care unit, to join the market research department of the consumer goods giant.

Kannikar, now president and a director of Siam Commercial Bank, was to play a crucial role in shaping the young Kirati's marketing acumen.

"She's one of those rare marketers with both spirit and substance," says the former apprentice. "She fights for brands." Through his work experience with her, Kirati strives to emulate Kannikar's ability to think and work in both the big and small corporate pictures.

He must be doing something right. Within a short period of five years, Vitamins has seen its annual billings grow to about Bt50 million. It is reputedly one of the most expensive marketing and market research consultancies of its kind.

A self-confessed risk-taker, Kirati put up his own life savings and managed to convince his then newly married wife to part with hers to start Vitamins with a partner. "I'm always grateful for her, she has always been very supportive," Kirati beams.

Now that co-founder Jitr Tantasathien has departed, Kirati faces the task of managing and guiding a group of young guns on his own: "Although I still review all their work, these days I am more of a coach."

For an organisation that thrives on brainpower, keeping a happy, talented workforce is vital. Kirati believes it is his responsibility to feed them with challenging work. "For them to work for this young upstart, we ought to give them something worthwhile in return."

That something worthwhile is the chance to work on a wide array of products from financial services to heavy industry, from quick-service restaurants to the usual fast-moving consumer goods. To date, more than a quarter of Vitamins' clients are from Kirati's alma mater, Unilever.

His young and hungry consultants and researchers come from all walks of life. There are, for instance, graduates of pharmacy and English literature, as well as an MBA. To find them, Vitamins has installed a tough selection process. All candidates must spend a day in Vitamins' office and attend a focus group discussion. They then have to debrief and complete an executive summary. If this fails, the candidates are given the chance to defend their arguments.

With some clients from the Asian region and other local clients going regional, about 20 per cent to 30 per cent of Vitamins' business is now out of town. From research in Bangkok, Khon Kaen or Chiang Mai, the trend is changing to Bangkok, Ho Chi Minh City or Shanghai.

When not busy interviewing consumers in different locations around the globe, Kirati indulges in the stylistic variations of Toscanini, Furtwangler and Klemperer conducting Beethoven, one of his favourite composers.

His love affair with classical music began with a summer school trip to Harvard University at the tender age of 13. Once back in Thailand, still awe-struck by the New England heritage of cultures, arts and letters, he persuaded his parents to send him to boarding school in Massachusetts, where he graduated from Winthrop Senior High School.

If all of this sounds a bit highbrow for a detective of grass-roots motivations - Kirati does admit to listening to pop music, but adds, still in his characteristic Allegro assai, that it's just to stay abreast of trends.

Ki Nan Tsui

The Nation