Dancing at Every Wedding

After ten hectic days of ogling and order-writing, the 17th annual Hanover Fair closed last week, and West Germany's tenth biggest city (pop. 575,000) reverted to its usual role as the quiet capital of Lower Saxony. The world's largest industrial fair had, as usual, racked up superlatives: more exhibits (5,707) from more nations (27) than ever before, more visitors (1,500,000), and more revenue for such ancillary services as hotels, restaurants and airlines. But even as they tallied up their new orders, Germany's businessmen debated whether the Hanover Fair --or, for that matter, Europe's proliferation of industrial fairs--was really worth the bother. Said Fritz-Aurel Goergen, managing director of exhibiting Henschel (trucks, heavy machinery): "There's probably nobody who doesn't recognize that this is a drain of money, manpower and time that borders on insanity."

Rare Buyer. More than 20 such fairs are now held yearly, from London and Milan to Basel and Budapest. The fairs have become more a matter of pride than pocketbook for image-conscious European firms, many of which try to exhibit at all of them, fearing that failure to exhibit might start a rumor that a company was in trouble. On such a scale, exhibitions can be very expensive; German companies allot $375 million yearly to fairs, or about half as much as they spend on all advertising. Such smaller companies as porcelain makers or optical works may hope to recoup their outlay in sales or business contacts. But for Krupp, Henschel, Mannesmann and other heavy machinery giants, which occupy 60% of the space at the Hanover Fair, the return is measured largely in good will. The really interested customer keeps up with their products anyway, and visits the plants to inspect them; he rarely buys anything big at such fairs. A Mannesmann executive calls the Hanover Fair "superfluous," and a Demag executive says: "If this isn't stopped, fairs will degenerate into public relations for its own sake."

Though they would not abandon industrial fairs, the large companies would like them to be held only every other year. They also want the types of exhibitors limited, and confined to showing only new products. Krupp General Manager Berthold Beitz believes that fairs force firms to be more competition-conscious, but would "just as soon show one really interesting product as ten mediocre ones." Adds he: "If we cut out mediocrity, we will also get the kind of visitors we want; and when that happens, we won't have to go to so many other fairs either. You just cannot dance at every wedding."

Tourists Not Wanted. Aware of such complaints, Hanover Fair directors are making some changes. This year they cut tedious public speechmaking from two days to one. They are considering raising the $2.50 admission price to eliminate tourists and curiosity seekers, but they have not reached the point of discouraging size and superlatives. For one thing, the Hanover Fair is a corporation--and ballyhoo and bigger figures over 17 years have produced an annual 4% dividend for Hanover and Lower Saxony.

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