Mars and Cadbury spent nearly a century locked in a confectionery cold war. M&M’s versus Dairy Milk. Snickers versus the Crème Egg. But while Cadbury clung to its Quaker roots and doubled down on ethical sweetness, Mars was quietly building something far bigger—and far more lucrative.
Today, Mars generates over $55 billion in annual revenue, ten times more than Cadbury. Yet only 40% of that comes from candy. The rest? It comes from a business most people don’t even know Mars dominates: pet care.
This empire didn’t happen overnight. It started in 1935, when Forrest Mars Sr., estranged from his father, moved to England and purchased CHAPPIE, a dog food brand. While Cadbury focused on seasonal chocolates and heritage branding, Mars played the long game—quietly buying up pet food companies and, eventually, entire veterinary networks.
Pets, Profit, and the Power of Routine
Mars’ strategy was rooted in one insight: pet ownership is a recurring relationship. Pets eat every day. They get sick. They grow old. That means consistent spending—something confectionery brands can’t count on.
So Mars went beyond kibble. They acquired Royal Canin, Pedigree, and Whiskas. Then they took it further: they bought Banfield Pet Hospitals and VCA Inc., creating a vertical monopoly that covers food and medical care. It’s the corporate equivalent of owning both the grocery store and the doctor’s office.
The Power of Hidden Scale
What’s most remarkable is how quietly this empire was built. Mars’ veterinary arm now spans 2,000+ global locations, employs over 100,000 people, and is valued at $112 billion. Yet most pet owners have no idea their vet is part of the same company that makes Twix.
That’s not by accident. Mars has always kept its brands distinct. While Cadbury crafted whimsical campaigns—gorillas on drums, fruit and nutcases—Mars focused on functional messaging and operational excellence. Their marketing was clear, and their strategy was covert.
Even as Cadbury became a beloved British institution, Mars became a multinational juggernaut, without ever going public. That private status gave Mars something rare in modern business: patience. They didn’t have to answer to shareholders. They could bet long, spend big, and wait for cultural tides to turn.
Legacy vs. Leverage
Cadbury’s legacy is noble, rooted in social purpose and community-building. The model village of Bournville remains a symbol of ethical capitalism. But in business, idealism can sometimes slow reinvention. Cadbury innovated in taste and advertising, but not in business model.
Mars, on the other hand, was relentless in its pursuit of leverage. Where Cadbury saw chocolate as culture, Mars saw food as infrastructure. Pet care isn’t just a product—it’s a system. And Mars owns it.
They’re not done. Mars is now investing $1 billion into AI for pet diagnostics, DNA testing, and even electric delivery trucks. While Cadbury remains a cherished brand, Mars is evolving into a platform business—one that sits at the intersection of health, data, and daily life.
The Long Game Always Wins
In the end, the chocolate war wasn’t just about taste—it was about vision. Mars saw the future in routines, not indulgences. In essentials, not treats. In pets, not people. And while Cadbury remains sweetly nostalgic, Mars now quietly shapes one of the world’s most emotionally powerful and economically resilient industries.
The lesson is clear: adapt, diversify, and stay hidden when it counts. Mars didn’t just win the candy war. It outgrew it.