Out of the jungle
Sathien Setthasit’s experience protesting political leaders in the 1970s shaped his vision for Carabao Group.
Theman sits stoically drinking clear soup, a dish he has had for breakfast and lunch every single day for the last decade, as the rest of the group partakes in generous portions of pork, chicken and rice. Sathien Setthasit, founder of Carabao Group, says he has not eaten rice since he went into the jungle to protest the government after the revolts of the 1970s.
“Corn was all we had, and I’ve kept it that way,” he says.
The 64-year-old executive, clad with a black polo bearing the company’s water buffalo logo, is rarely seen in public without Carabao paraphernalia, an obsession that has consumed the last 15 years of his life.
Mr Sathien spent part of that period sleeping alone in a minuscule room near his office, working around the clock, says Tientham Setthasit, Mr Sathien’s daughter, who acted as a translator during the interview.
LIFE IS A JUNGLE
“Even now its 95% work, 5% personal. He often calls me from our Sunday family lunch to go back to work at the office,” she says, donning a slightly faded Carabao sweatshirt.
“Looking from the outside you probably think that getting here came as a surprise to me, but it didn’t. Through my whole career I’ve always looked at least three years ahead,” says Mr Sathien.
Like Chaleo Yoovidhya, the founder of Red Bull, Mr Sathien makes a claim to humble beginnings. Born in the northern provinces, he grew up alongside 10 siblings, many of whom worked at the company, and some of whom retired. He left formal education before completing primary school, and was mostly self-taught until he earned a political science degree from an open university.
From there he joined the pro-democracy movement and embarked on a four-year stint fighting in the jungle.
“Back then I only thought about politics; it was like a dream. The years in the jungle were the happiest in my life because I was fighting for something I believed in,” he says. In the jungle, survival was the only concern. “Even though I was close to dying on several occasions, I never wanted to die. I didn’t even think about death.”
Death came closer when the entrepreneur left the psychological comfort of his straightforward ideological living.
“The first thing I thought about when I got out of the jungle was how to make a living. I thought about
Even though I was close to dying on several occasions, I never wanted to die. I didn’t even think about death. SATHIEN SETTHASIT FOUNDER OF CARABAO GROUP
killing myself when I realised how hard it is to survive. You see in the jungle, stress is only psychological. Outside it is psychological, more insidious and relentless,” he told the Bangkok Post in the first exclusive interview he granted to the media.
War made him understand people from all walks of life, and all rungs of the social hierarchy, says Mr Sathien.
“My years as a soldier come in useful now that I have to manage more than 1,000 people, many of whom work low-level service jobs.”
NO MORE TERMITES
In his post-guerrilla years, Mr Sathien embarked on a series of moderately successful businesses, which included a corner grocery shop and a nail factory.
“I was never one to settle with just getting by. Even when I was in the grocery store, I always had a grand plan in mind,” he says.
Mr Sathien felt Carabao was meant to happen. “I knew the founders of Carabao through a friend of a friend, and I knew one of the people that had worked on the original Red Bull formulation, I just never thought of putting them together,” he says.
The company, now valued over 55 billion baht, started with a 200-million-baht investment, 60-70 million of which was provided by Mr Sathien.
“I’ve always looked three years ahead, so I never thought I was not going to make it,” says the executive, who vowed to turn Carabao into an international brand before retirement.
Mr Sathien made the Forbes’ billionaires list in October of 2017 after the company’s stock swelled above 100 baht per share. He has fought to keep his wealth a secret for his family, but doing so became impossible after the company went public in 2014.
“I think he is worth over half a billion dollars; it’s on Forbes,” says Miss Tientham, who donned a sli.
“No, she doesn’t know. Forbes doesn’t even know how much money I have,” says Mr Sathien. Forbes estimates the executive is worth US$950 million (31.5 billion baht).
“I started thinking my father was rich when I was in high school,” says Miss Tientham after her father left the room. “In reality though, I never felt rich. I’ve always been a salaried employee, and my father never allows me to tap into his money.”
She attended public school in Bangkok before moving to the University of California, Berkeley, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
In the span of a decade, says Miss Tientham, the family went from a dilapidated house in Khlong Toei to a home worth more than 100 million baht in the city’s core.
“Our old house was infested with termites. You could penetrate the walls with a finger,” she says.
Some things have not changed. Mr Sathien’s wife, a career teacher, taught English until her recent retirement, and refused to work at the company.
SONGS GAVE THEM HOPE
The roots of Carabao, unlike those of its older rival, have always been ensnared in politics. Carabao Group, called by some the Asian Rolling Stoned, produced politically provocative songs that mixed Thai folklore with Western influences. The musicians reached cult status among student protesters.
Mr Sathien’s “first love” has always been politics, and he considered running for public office until recently. The executive did away with his political aspirations on Line, reassuring investors shortly after the company went public he would dedicate himself to running the company.
“I am disappointed with politics, and I know there will be no change regardless of who wins the 2018 election,” he says.
Mr Sathien spent his early life fighting for political ideals, but the wisdom of experience has taught him every issue has two sides to it. He insists he would support his children if they ever decide to fight, metaphorically or otherwise, for something they believed in.
“I saw people die in the jungle, but I don’t regret anything,” says Mr Sathien.
BREAKING THE MAGIC NUMBER
He confirmed rumours that he will retire in three years, leaving the reins of the company to his children or professional managers after his departure. He clarified that he would still remain involved in the company “behind the scenes”.
“The market and technology are changing very fast. I may not be the best person to lead the company in the future. We need the younger generation to step up,” says Mr Sathien.
The executive is actively looking for workers below 35 years old to train before his retirement.
Notably, he also owns Tawandang Brewery, a separate (non-listed) entity that is the largest single-building brewery in the country at 150,000 litres per day.
Alcoholic beverages may prove to be Mr Sathien’s best insurance as the domestic market for energy drinks slows down. Introduced only two months ago, Tawandang’s white spirit has already sold close to 3 million bottles priced 60 baht each.
The retirement news comes as the company tries to transform its perception and its culture from a product targeting manual labourers to one geared towards younger, wealthier consumers.
For example, Carabao recently introduced a 25-baht can format, similar to energy drinks sold abroad. The price is more than twice the “magic” 10-baht per bottle price energy drink vendors have been locked in for decades.
This transition highlights Carabao’s schizophrenic sales strategy. In the last 15 years, the company has cultivated two very distinct identities that are soon set to collide.
Abroad, where the company has become a main sponsor of the English Premier League, Carabao, like other energy drinks, has worked to associate itself with sports and well-off consumers.
In Thailand, the company has been unwilling to leave behind its folk music origins, and recently rolled out an army of scantily clad promoters to the country’s rural areas.
Mr Sathien says the company is still proud of its roots, and refuses to call the brand’s marketing efforts “repositioning”, preferring to use “refresh”.
The experience of Carabao’s upmarket rebranding and the aftermath of Mr Sathien’s retirement will rapidly reshape the ponderous Thai energy drink market in the next half-decade.