Back then, anyone who wanted a new pair of boots would sit in front of the shoemaker and wait for him to make them. They went in barefoot and came out wearing shoes. Problem solved, need satisfied, customer happy, craftsman earning a living. That was how things were at the beginning of the market! Everyone lived happily, in a reasonable balance between supply and demand, some seeking only what necessity dictated and others offering only the immediate and tangible answer to the demand of those who had feet and the means to buy leather protection for them.
Even location was not a problem. Anyone who believed himself capable of handling uppers would set up shop as a master craftsman in Shoemakers’ Street, and anyone wishing to cover the ends of his legs would go to that same street. How happy the marketers of those days must have been…
But, as we know, everything became more complicated afterwards. Contradicting an old social belief according to which all shoemakers do the same thing — make shoes, naturally — the shoemaker João do Ferro, who before turning to soles had been a foundry apprentice and a young man gifted in manual crafts, decided to surprise a customer with a metal toe cap, very useful for urging on a horse and breaking the legs of troublesome people.
The use of this remarkable innovation did a great deal for the owner of the boots, but even more for their creator. Many and varied reasons led dozens of brave young men to seek out João do Ferro as the solution to the weakness of their footwear, leaving Shoemakers’ Street with gleaming metal toe caps all over Lisbon, spreading news and fame of that miraculous shaper of leather based in Shoemakers’ Street.
Before long, the people who truly mattered in the capital of the kingdom could be recognised by the Ferro boots on their feet. Ferro’s boots — or Ferro Boots, as they affectionately came to be known — became a marker of status and, to that extent, an item of the utmost necessity. Owning a pair of Ferro Boots became an indicator of social standing and a requirement for entry to certain pilgrimages and festivities.
While these transformations in the realm of sociology were making History, in the field of Economics a number of dramatic developments were already lying in wait for the fate of João do Ferro, by then better known as João das Botas — João of the Boots — in a clear and definitive acknowledgement of his productive dominance in the field of evolutionary shoemaking.
His success was so astonishing to Shoemakers’ Street that it awakened the hatred of his enemies, the envy of his friends, the suspicion of the authorities, the vanity of his wife and the impatience of his customers. João had watched a great deal of iron melt and knew a few basic truths about life, so he responded to the storm as best he could, continuing to make good money from the toe caps.
But the greatest challenge of his life came one October morning, when, walking down Shoemakers’ Street towards his workshop, he discovered more than a dozen craftsmen in the same trade selling “his” Ferro Boots for ten cents less. He very nearly suffered a stroke, and it almost cost him his soul to realise that his gleaming toe caps had already become commonplace, produced by other hands and paid for by many other feet.
Overwhelmed by despair, he shut himself away at home to brood. His wife thought he had gone mad, but after three days without eating or drinking, João do Ferro — pardon me, João das Botas — gathered the family in the sitting room and whispered that he had had a vision, as exciting as it was terrifying.
Faced with the silence of his wife and the expectant faces of his heirs, he declared:
— “My children, this family has begun a great social revolution. Our toe caps will lead Humanity to great conquests, and the future of shoemakers will be gloriously acknowledged in the centuries to come. We have discovered the secret of evolutionary shoemaking; we are the dissatisfied chromosome that drives life forward and improves it. All this was revealed to me during these last three days of stupor and reflection. But there is something I must tell you now, so that you may prepare yourselves and not be afraid…”
At this point in the speech, a veil of fear passed over the youthful faces of his children and the dark complexion of his wife, but the great João continued:
— “Truly I tell you: I know that we shall never again have peace, never again sleep secure about tomorrow, never again take the lead in this street without looking over our shoulders for danger. My dear ones: we invented competition and were glorified throughout the city, but now we shall become victims of our own invention, because the secret is out in the street and the street is against us. There is only one thing left to us…”
Their terrified eyes begged for paternal mercy. But João of the Iron Boots did not stop:
— “There is only one thing left to us: our name. We have a name known throughout Lisbon and its surroundings, we are the inventors of the finest metal toe caps and we will not allow ourselves to be destroyed by cheaper imitators.
Boys: off to the workshop at once. Work faster and use less leather.
Wife: spread the cry through the streets. Assure the people that Ferro Boots are made of steel — others promise, but I deliver. We shall sell our victory more cheaply. History has only just begun, and the competition from those donkeys only makes me more determined to crush them. With toe caps or without toe caps, however the customer wants them.”
Everyone knows the rest of the story.
Paulo Fidalgo
CEO of Marketividade
