America has a brand problem, but the solution is not better advertising, a memorable slogan, or snappier packaging. (Though fixing the shameful way we treat foreign tourists when they line up at U.S. immigration and customs would be a good start.)

Instead, the focus should be on drawing lessons from the success of U.S.-based global companies in foreign markets. And the answer has less to do with slick selling than with hard listening. Successful American global companies never bought into the idea that the world has become a single homogeneous market in which the same product could be sold everywhere with small changes in packaging to accommodate different languages.

P&G tried that approach following World War II. They shipped crates of mint-flavored toothpaste to England, not realizing that the British associate wintergreen with liniment to be rubbed on aching muscles rather than brushed on their teeth. When the company entered China in the late 1980s, it sent researchers to live with potential customers and observe them washing their clothes, brushing their teeth, or changing the baby. The result was a line of products that were tailored to local flavors, colors, textures and tastes. A jasmine-flavored toothpaste, for example, capitalizes on the Chinese belief that tea is good for bad breath. Today, P&G is the most successful “foreign marketer” in China, with the leading market share in four of the seven categories in which it competes. They didn’t do it with ads; they did it by really listening to their customers.

Rebuilding Brand America needs to start with a clear-eyed, unapologetic assessment of why the world perceives the U.S. as it does, without making excuses, discounting uncomfortable or inconvenient facts, or seeking shelter in bromides like “it comes with the territory.” Understanding “why” requires a depth of fluent listening that has never come easy to a people who are so practical and so impatient they want to move immediately to solutions. But it is critical to understanding all the forces pulling at America’s brand.

Surveys by the Pew Research Center show that Americans are rather indifferent to the rest of the world. The average American thinks something like this: It would be great for the rest of the world to like the United States, but if it doesn’t, so what? Wasn’t it Machiavelli who said it was less important to be liked than feared? Put more genteelly, isn’t affection less important than respect?

But in an inter-connected world, neither fear nor begrudging respect is enough. America must be trusted, which is the essence of a strong brand. Trust has two components—competence and sincerity. The United States has given the world plenty of reason to doubt its competence, from its misadventures in Iraq to the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. But worse, America has lost the benefit of the doubt because more and more people now question its sincerity. The calculation of sincerity may be a rational process, but the product is primarily emotional. Brands, by definition, are more emotional than rational. That’s another lesson the private sector can impart.

When America demonstrates that it cares about people’s concerns and aspirations, it connects with them emotionally. America’s response to the 2004 East Asian tsunami, for example, greatly improved its standing in the region. The sight of U.S. military helicopters delivering relief to refugees did more to improve America’s image than any number of feel-good TV commercials could.

According to an August 2006 poll by Terror Free Tomorrow, America's provision of aid to Indonesia buoyed our approval rating there to 33 percent in 2005, up from 15 percent in 2003. The American response to the 2005 earthquake in Pakistan contributed to a similar increase in favorable attitudes there. And, in both Muslim countries, support for Bin Laden has dropped to its lowest levels since 9/11.

Of course, disaster-relief is only a small part of America’s aid program. Another lesson government can take from the private sector is that “aid” or philanthropy has long-term benefit only when it operates at the intersection of both the donor’s and the recipient’s values and interests. Avon’s decade-long breast cancer crusade, IBM’s education initiatives, Johnson & Johnson’s support of nurses, American Express’s campaigns to feed the hungry, and General Mills’s youth fitness programs win friends and supporters because they are relevant to both sponsor and beneficiary.

Similarly, America’s reputation cannot be rebuilt solely on donated bags of rice. Government efforts must be rooted in a clear-eyed view of America’s core values as well as in the aspirations of people around the world. For example, U.S. foreign aid that promotes freedom of opportunity responds not only to the legitimate interests of people in developing countries, but to the values that have sustained America since its founding. Such focused aid will deny the Bin Ladens of the world the economic and social environments in which they can recruit people so desperate that blowing themselves up seems relatively attractive.

Dick Martin is the author of "Rebuilding Brand America," which is being published by the American Management Association. He was AT&T executive vice president of public relations and brand management from 1997 to 2003.

Image credits: "P&G World HQ Towers" by Flickr user limemintcooler; "Mercy US Navy Hospital Ship" by Flickr user SR Eyes