Crack This Code

It's day four of our journey into the heart of India's culture, and we're holed up inside the sprawling Bangalore Oberoi hotel. Somehow, this immaculately manicured property blocks out the offensive cocktail of sandalwood and diesel that overwhelms your senses when you're actually navigating the anarchic streets of India's high-tech capital. It makes you forget that India has no personal space, or that 300 million of its people live on less than a dollar a day.

So on this afternoon, instead, India comes to us. Even before the research session begins, participants reveal centuries-old cultural tics. Women are wound in rich greens and hot pinks, oranges and golds; the men are a colorless contrast, swathed in grays and beiges and blacks. Asked to sit themselves in a circle, they self-organize: Men and women take to opposite sides of the room, with the oldest of both sexes seated together.

This surely means something, and eventually, the Frenchman in black cowboy boots watching via a monitor in the next room will explain what that meaning is. G. Clotaire Rapaille will crack India's code, as he has dozens of others. He will explain what makes this intricate country and its people tick and, not incidentally, how to do business there. And for that intelligence, the corporate clients who have traveled to India with him, including executives from DuPont and luxury goods group Richemont, will reward him handsomely.

Rapaille is a market researcher, political scientist, medical anthropologist, and cultural shrink. Armed with Freudian and Jungian psychoanalytical theory, he seeks to tap a people's "collective unconscious," revealing what it means to be Japanese, German, or most recently, Chinese. "The code is like an access code: How do you punch the buttons to open the door?" Rapaille says, revealing a pungent accent. "Suddenly, once you get the code, you understand everything. It's like getting new glasses."

This stuff doesn't fly well in scholarly circles. Richard A. Shweder, a University of Chicago professor of cultural anthropology and psychology, likens Rapaille's methodologies to "the soft porn of irrationalism." (Rapaille, for his part, dismisses academics out of hand: "They only have ideas. They don't have any results.") And his New York-based firm, Archetype Discoveries Worldwide, seems amateurish at times. (I discovered that the woman leading the Bangalore focus group, for example, was also his live-in personal chef; "he and his wife prefer light fare like salads," she told me.)

Yet Rapaille's corporate portfolio is as extravagant as his black velvet suits and Rolls-Royces. He's not shy about boasting that "50 of the Fortune 100 companies" are his clients, that he has "cracked 35 codes" for P&G, and that he is author of "14 books." Companies pay Rapaille between $125,000 and $225,000 to crack cultures, product categories, or brands across cultures. (What, for example, does toilet paper mean to Americans versus the Japanese?) He gets $30,000 per 45-minute speech.

Indeed, many clients regard him with a zeal more often reserved for a cult leader. Listen to Mike Jensen, GMAC Insurance's chief brand officer: "For us, [Rapaille's findings] created a sense of identity and noble purpose." Or to Ed McQuigg, who directs strategy and marketing for Richemont: "Whenever you can… go for a walk with him, let your mind run and ask him one question after another, and you will learn things about life."

One question comes to mind over and over: Is Rapaille for real? I traveled to India with him looking to decode one of the world's last great growth markets: "The next China's" mushrooming middle class, after all, is nearing 300 million, creating an enormous opportunity for consumer brands and retailers. Yet its 5,000-year history, its 1 billion inhabitants, and its 15 official languages also make it, if not impenetrable to outsiders, then certainly challenging. Rapaille promised insight. And that, I certainly got.

As the session begins, Rapaille perches, legs crossed, within inches of the monitor, furiously scribbling in a journal with a quote from Gandhi taped to the interior flap. His swooping amber hair grazes a finely tailored black suit; he sports a watch on each wrist--one for local Indian time, the other for New York.

"Does India still have a caste system?" the moderator asks the group. The Indians take the bait, shouting "no!" or "yes!" as the room explodes into raucous debate.

"Suddenly, once you get the code, you understand everything. It's like getting new glasses."