Few brands were hit as hard by the recession as Harley-Davidson. Demand for motorcycles has taken a hit, and demand for premium motorcycles has taken an even bigger hit. It’s hard to sell a lot of twenty-some-thousand-dollar bikes when discretionary income is at a premium. Harley’s revenues continue to suffer, dipping 7.7 percent in the third quarter.

Under these circumstances, the last thing you’d expect from Harley-Davidson is solid profitability, but the company’s profits more than tripled in the last quarter as management cut costs, laid off employees and closed plants. That, however, is only half the story. Beyond cutting back on its supply side—here’s where Harley departs from average brands—the company managed its demand side as well.

As the economy tightened up, Harley began requiring larger down payments from its credit customers. The company tightened up its lending standards, too, making it harder for the average Joe to afford one of its motorcycles. And it further refined its brand focus by abandoning its Buell line of motorcycles and selling off its MV Agusta brand.

Only a confident company with a powerful brand can make moves like that. I was reminded of that power a few days ago during a first-time visit to a new client. He was (to say the least) a Harley aficionado, his office decked out with brand paraphernalia. It was like being in an office at the local dealership; everywhere I turned I saw another Harley-Davidson logo—on the walls, on the chairs, on the trinkets on the bookshelves, you name it. It was not the typical office of a senior executive at a major corporation.

Alas, I can’t say I’m surprised. Harley-Davidson has done such a good job building brand equity over the years that, even in a downturn, the company can make a healthy profit. Rather than abandoning its principles to mount an ill-fated growth-at-any-cost effort, Harley management recognized its economic predicament and decided to protect both the brand and its profits. In fact, in some ways the stricter lending requirements add to Harley’s mystique. Scarcity, after all, creates value.

No company can control macroeconomic conditions, but every company can control how it responds to them. While other brands lost their nerve during the past couple of years, Harley-Davidson kept its cool. Literally.

Three months ago if you would have asked me to cite the first three things that come to mind about Chile, I would have said something like South America, interesting terrain, and a fearful dictator named Pinochet.

Today ask me to cite the first three things that come to mind about Chile and I’ll say caring people, capable leadership and joy.

Both impressions are, no doubt, incomplete. But both are also true. And they highlight perhaps the most important tenet in branding: you are what you do.

Tourismo Chile spends a lot of time and money on “branding” to attract visitors to its country. But I have to admit that its efforts have fallen flat against me; I can’t remember a single ad or news story about Chile prior to the miners’ saga. That’s understandable, because we all know how far a marketing budget doesn’t go these days.

But even if I had seen Chile’s official branding efforts, they couldn’t have come close to coloring my opinion of the country the way the events that unfolded over the past two months have. They’ve given me an affection for Chile, and an interest in visiting the country and meeting its people, blessing them with my own small investment in their economy. And the intensity of the impressions mean they’ll last for some time in my mind, ready to be called up whenever I hear the country’s name.

It’s crazy, but Chile’s tragedy-turned-triumph will likely have more impact on its tourism economy than all the marketing it has done over the past decade. That’s the power of a strong brand, which Chile has suddenly become.

I suspect the last thing the heroes in Chile had on their mind as they prayerfully and steadfastly drilled towards their trapped brethren was the impact of their efforts on tourism, to say nothing of some esoteric concept called “branding.” They just did what was right with all of their hearts, minds and strength.

That’s not a bad template for any brand.

Uh-oh. Lots of angst in the past few days about Frito-Lay’s announcement that it’s killing (OK, significantly cutting back) its Sun Chips 100% compostable packaging because consumers complained about the noise. According to The Wall Street Journal, “The racket clocked in at around 95 decibels, louder than a lawnmower, a coffee grinder, or certain breeds of dog barking in your ear.”

That is, indeed, loud. But can we not put up with a little…er, lots of noise if it’s good for the environment? That’s the argument Kate Sheppard makes in her blog post at Mother Jones, ominously headlined “Why We’re Doomed.” She admits that people are entitled to their own opinions about consumer product aesthetics, “but should those really trump the environmental benefits?”

Hold on a minute there. Unless I’m missing something, it’s not a question of what’s good for the environment vs. what’s bad for the environment. It’s a question of which is worse for the environment, trash pollution or noise pollution. Both are bad, and the market (that means us) is determining which is worse. We may have to address these two problems one at a time.

Sun Chips’ customers are voting with their dollars (by withholding them) against noise pollution. It’s probably because the noise pollution is more immediate and painful to them personally, and in that sense it’s a rational decision—especially since there are lots of other potato chip options out there served up in nice, quiet bags. That doesn’t make them bad actors; it makes them economic actors, as we all are, in a world full of tradeoffs and imperfect information. That’s the way the market works. And the market works.

That’s why I’m OK with this development and don’t see it as a step toward armageddon. I view it as a valuable learning experience about real world causes and effects. You can be sure that someone will find a way to keep biodegradable bags quieter, betting that’s what consumers will prefer and they can thus make a killing when the industry converts.

The term “converts” is indeed apropos in this situation; conversion, to be lasting, must be based on free choice. History is replete with the bloody consequences of trying to force it.