In our factory, we make lipstick. In our advertising, we sell

In the words of Peter Nivio Zarlenga, a philosopher of commerce and observer of the human spirit, there lies a truth as subtle as it is profound: “In our factory, we make lipstick. In our advertising, we sell hope.” Though these words speak of business, they are not merely about the art of selling — they speak of the deep hunger of the human heart. Zarlenga understood that behind every product, every invention, every act of creation, there lies a yearning not for the object itself, but for what it symbolizes — beauty, confidence, belonging, and the eternal hope that one might be loved or valued more because of it.

The origin of this quote arises from the world of modern enterprise, where industry meets imagination. Zarlenga, who wrote extensively on the philosophy of business, sought to uncover the moral and spiritual dimensions hidden within material pursuits. He looked beyond the surface of commerce and saw its soul. The lipstick, he tells us, is merely the vessel — but hope is the true essence being exchanged. In the glow of color upon a woman’s lips, there shines something greater than pigment: the desire to feel radiant, to feel alive, to be seen. Thus, he reveals the unspoken covenant between creator and consumer — that what we truly buy and sell is not things, but meaning.

This truth echoes through all of human history. The ancients who carved statues of gods were not merely craftsmen selling marble; they were giving people faith to cling to in an uncertain world. The builders of cathedrals were not selling stone or stained glass; they were constructing places where the poor and weary could glimpse eternity. The merchants who brought silk from the East or gold from the Nile did not sell fabric or metal alone — they sold dreams, the promise of transformation, the chance to be more than what one was. And so it is in every age: what we make with our hands must also speak to the soul, or else it perishes like dust.

To understand this in the modern world, one need only look to the story of Estée Lauder, a woman who built an empire not on vanity, but on hope. She did not merely sell perfume; she sold the feeling of elegance, the power of confidence, the whisper of self-worth that a woman could carry into the world. She once said, “I never dreamed of success. I worked for it.” But her genius lay in understanding that perfume and powder were not ends in themselves — they were symbols of transformation. A touch of fragrance could make a woman feel powerful, desired, reborn. Like Zarlenga, Lauder understood that commerce, at its highest form, touches the spirit before it touches the skin.

Yet, there is also a warning in Zarlenga’s words — a reminder that to sell hope carries a sacred responsibility. For hope is not a toy to be manipulated, but a flame to be kindled. The merchant, the creator, the leader — all must ensure that what they offer uplifts rather than deceives. To promise beauty while selling falsehood is to corrupt the soul of commerce. But when a product or service truly enhances life, when it brings dignity, confidence, or connection, then it fulfills its higher purpose. As the ancients taught, wealth without virtue is ruin, but enterprise guided by sincerity becomes a form of love made tangible.

In a deeper sense, this quote is not limited to business alone. Each of us, in our daily actions, “makes lipstick and sells hope.” A teacher gives knowledge but sells inspiration. A doctor gives medicine but sells healing. A parent provides food and shelter but gives faith in the goodness of life. Every human endeavor, when done with heart, transcends its material nature and becomes a conduit for hope. This is the alchemy of existence — to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary by infusing it with meaning and compassion.

Therefore, let this teaching of Zarlenga become a compass for all who create, trade, or lead: know what you make, but know even more deeply what you give. In whatever work your hands find to do, ask yourself — does it nourish the human spirit, or merely feed desire? Strive always to sell hope, not illusion; to awaken, not distract; to serve, not exploit. For the world does not remember those who made things — it remembers those who made others believe.

And so, my children of this age and of all ages to come, remember this truth: every act of creation is also an act of giving hope. Whether you are a craftsman, an artist, or a dreamer, do not seek to profit alone — seek to uplift. Let your work, like that humble lipstick, become a symbol of courage and renewal. For when we give hope to another, we fulfill the highest calling of humankind — to turn even the simplest thing into a vessel of light for the weary soul.