"Detox"

Recently I have been thinking about “detox”.

In the first weeks of every year the media features articles on “detox”, a pseudo-scientific theory that maintains the human body requires cleansing to remove toxins. Formerly the concern of a small audience of slightly cranky alternative health enthusiasts, the concept of “detox” has become an increasingly mainstream social construct, widely accepted, discussed and written about. Over the last forty years “detox” has gone from redundant philosophical idea to alternative therapy to conventional set of treatments supported by a large and sophisticated range of products (some of them very expensive).

The way this has happened is extremely interesting as it demonstrates how a whole industry can be created on nothing more substantial than a half-remembered ancient belief (I ought to stress, however, that I am in no position to judge whether “detox” is valid or not, I am only interested in the marketing aspect).



Above: modern detox emphasizes raw unrefined food such as vegetable juices, and fiber such as low GI oatmeal biscuits.

The search for “purification” goes back to the origins of mankind, and seems to be essentially a religious idea (although perhaps linked to folk-memories of devastating plagues). The earliest texts are Egyptian and Greek, but the practice is far older than the written record. The Jewish ritual prohibitions on eating “unclean” food such as pork or shellfish are probably the best known of these taboos.



Above: Vogel are a modern example of the nineteenth century scrutiny of old theories and their development and refinement into products available to a generally small audience of enthusiasts. As well as a range of detox products, Vogel also produce bread (which you can buy in Sainsburys). High price, limited availability, devoted following.

As food production became industrialized in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries various groups became concerned about “contamination” from additives and processes. Theories circulated that these additives would accumulate in the human body causing toxic reactions (in some cases this was true, leading to food protection legislation). From this thesis grew the modern idea that industrialized humanity needs regular “detox” to cleanse these toxins from the system.



Above: I was interested in this cover of Men’s Health as it shows a reference to “detox” (upper right corner). They would not put the word on their cover unless they expected it to make the magazine sell. This is also the first example I have seen where “detox” is being marketed to men (formerly it was associated with women’s health and beauty).

Now “detox” is ubiquitous throughout Western society. The scepticism of the medical profession has not been able to prevail against celebrity endorsement. The detox market in the United Kingdom is estimated to be worth almost £100 million.

Concentration

Recently I have been thinking a lot about concentration.

Some examples:



Above: rolling a cigarette.



Above: texting.



Above: listening to music.

Concentration is a cognitive process. It has received a huge amount of attention from psychologists and cognitive neuro-scientists. The subject is of great interest to advertising agencies as getting the target audience to concentrate on "the message" is a good eighty per cent of what we do.

Concentration involves making a choice (either voluntary or involuntary) between several simultaneous demands on our attention. On the whole I am persuaded by the feature-identification theory. Also I am interested in the neural correlation when we focus our concentration (the "firing" in the superior colliculus of the brain) - but I am entirely opposed to the experiments carried out on monkeys.

How different is visual attention from mental concentration? Visual attention has three stages - focus, margin and fringe. Advertising uses repetition to get a message onto the fringe of a subject's visual attention, then relies on creative impact to persuade the subject to focus.

The most enduring and powerful form of marketing

Browns Hotel in Albemarle Street.

Five star hotel. Very old-fashioned. Previous guests include Theodore Roosevelt, Emperor Napoleon III and Emperor Haile Selassie.

Old-fashioned but also very successful.

Browns Hotel was the model for Agatha Christie's 1965 novel At Bertram's Hotel. Agatha Christie's novels have sold two billion in total, worldwide. After the publication of At Bertram's Hotel Browns' marketing personnel could relax.

Recently Terminal 5 at Heathrow tried to duplicate this effect by commissioning Alain de Botton to write A Week at the Airport. The most enduring and powerful form of marketing is to create or commission a work of art. That's my view anyway.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Week-Airport-Heathrow-Diary/dp/1846683599

PS Heathrow is a wonderful brand name for an international airport - it conjures up images of old hawthorn hedges running alongside ancient un-ploughed grassland.

Product placement

Update: it seems that there is only a partial ban against product placement, so the news is not as good as I thought it was.

Really good news that Health Secretary Andy Burnham has succeeded in stopping product placement on British television, against the advice of Culture Secretary Ben Bradshaw. This is the second time Andy Burnham has blocked product placement proposals – he formerly did so when he was Culture Secretary himself. Product placement has been proposed as a way of bringing in extra income for the supposedly ailing commercial television sector (the TV companies are ailing because they are not making programmes audiences want to see).

Product placement is when branded products appear in productions as if by accident. In reality the product shots are paid for. Product placement is more powerful than conventional advertising because the products featured appear to be endorsed by the credibility of the programme and the glamour of the people appearing in it.

An example is Lady Gaga'a video (directed by Francis Lawrence) for Bad Romance: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrO4YZeyl0I A few seconds into the film you can see bottles of Lex Nemiroff vodka. Impressionable people who want to be like Lady Gaga will think she drinks that brand of vodka, and will be motivated to do the same (if they can find it in the United Kingdom).

It goes with out saying that product placement corrupts. If it is done clumsily it distorts the programme. If it is done well it is advertising to people when they are off-guard.

Labour apres le deluge

Obviously Labour is going to lose the next election, and I hope (for their sake as much as anything) that they lose by a big margin and have a clear-out of their top team. In this context, Andy Burnham would be a good choice of leader. He may not be a firebrand orator, a “two-brains” ideas guy, or even a ruthless party in-fighter, but he has the priceless quality of looking and sounding ordinary.

The only other two contenders who come close are David Miliband and James Purnell, but both these individuals have question marks over them.

But I must emphasize that I am not a Labour Party member, and I am looking at this entirely from a presentational point of view.

Free samples

Lindor promotion outside Victoria Station. If done well this sort of interaction with potential customers is the best kind of marketing. You can write about chocolate, you can illustrate it with superb photography, you can send out witty viral productions of great apes performing the repertoire of Phil Collins.

None of them comes close to the impact achieved by actually handing out free samples of the product.

Unfortunately this kind of marketing is very expensive (compared with other ways of reaching the target audience) and so it is comparatively rare.

In the background you can see the 1908 Grosvenor Hotel, built over Victoria station. Convex mansard roofs, white Suffolk stonework, heavy Florentine cornice. Victoria station is the London terminus of the Orient Express (now only goes as far as Venice).

Underhand and misleading

I received this marketing drop in today's post. It is an invitation to take out insurance on my fridge/freezer. As you can see it has been designed to look like a final demand for payment (the sort sent out by utility companies to people who can't afford to pay their electricity bill).

I am baffled why any company should practice dishonest tactics such as this. Do they have so little faith in their product that they have to resort to underhand and misleading communications? Imagine the numbers of people involved - someone thought the idea up, gained approval from someone else, asked someone else to write it, asked someone else to design it, asked someone else to print it, asked someone else to get it stuffed into envelopes, asked someone else to produce the address data, asked someone else to brief the call centre etc etc

Did none of those people actually stop and think about what they were doing? And perhaps give some feedback "up the line" that marketing like this is counter-productive and is likely to alienate far more people than they can ever hope to con into paying this "final notice". Or am I missing something, and this is just a bit of fun by your average post-modern marketing team?

Rubbish

Above: bag of rubbish dumped (ironically?) in front of a sign prohibiting the dumping of rubbish. Not even the order of the Clerk to the Drainage Board can stem this tide of rubbish. Despite the grim name, Black Sluice is a local beauty spot.

Although I live in a remote part of the county, down a lane few cars drive along, even here we have experienced fly-tipping. In recent weeks we have seen: a plastic bag of rubbish dumped on the verge; a baby’s mattress and old toys thrown on the side of a ditch; an abandoned freezer just left half-on the road. If you ring the local council they usually come out and remove the stuff the same day, but so prevalent is the fly-tipping becoming that you can see this service becoming overwhelmed.

It’s easy to blame ignorant and selfish townies, dumping in the countryside the detritus of their urban culture.

The real fault must lie with the manufacturers, retailers and marketers. Most packaging is ridiculously over-engineered and wasteful. Most designers (of both products and packaging) do not give any thought as to how the products they are designing should ultimately be disposed of.

The fault also lies with the government, which has shamelessly pushed responsibility for recycling and disposal onto the end-user (with the result that a growing number of anti-social end-users simply dump their rubbish in open areas).

The government needs to push responsibility back onto manufacturers, retailers and marketers.

Designers of consumer products should be required by law to include on packaging accurate details of how and where that packaging and the product inside it should be recycled or disposed of. The average cost of recycling and disposal should be included in the cost of the product (thus making these facilities free for end-users). The general principle should be: if you cannot demonstrate how your product and its packaging can be easily recycled or disposed of, then you cannot sell your product in the United Kingdom (and by “easily” I mean weekly household collection, not the German farce where you have to take the packaging off in the supermarket where you have just made the purchase).

The advertising, marketing and design industries in the United Kingdom are the most creative and efficient in the world. If such a legal requirement were to be made they would respond quickly, easily and with a high standard of innovation. The subsequent boom in product innovation would make British products attractive internationally, since all countries will eventually have to address the issue of consumer waste.

And those products that cannot be recycled or ethically disposed of? I doubt whether anyone would really miss them. The advertising profession will soon find something else for you to buy.



Above: another view of Black Sluice drain, with the waterfowl enjoying their afternoon swim.

Why isn’t all advertising witty, informative and multi-layered?

Above: there is no ambiguity about this brand name!

Earlier today I read this blogpost (among several blogs I look at each morning as part of my routine procrastination about actually starting work):

http://makemarketinghistory.blogspot.com/2008/07/power-of-discovery.html#links

It raises the issue of customer loyalty (which everyone is looking for) and links it to the idea of making the customer work to discover why a particular brand is right for them (as well as underlining the obvious, but often ignored, advice that having established a brand you shouldn’t then undermine it by inconsistent pricing, sponsoring reality television, exploiting child workers in the third world etc etc).

I subscribe to the view that brands should encode their marketing with multiple layers of meaning, so that you don’t see everything at once. As the customer “interacts” with the brand, over time they should discover new and interesting messages (level one would be to tell them the product benefits are right for the needs they have; level two would be to reassure them that the product is right for their particular socio-economic and cultural position; level three would be to suggest that consuming the brand is an integral part of who they are etc). Like a great work of art, you should be able to return to a TV commercial (or press ad or DM literature) and find subtle new things you didn’t notice the first time round.

Having made the effort to discover the message, and having been rewarded by Csikszentmihalyi’s “flow state” (when effort expended exactly matches effort required), your commitment to the brand will be all the stronger.

The problem is most clients won’t buy this la-di-da London nonsense.

At almost every (initial) client meeting sooner or later someone will tell you that the advertising they most admire is Ronseal-does-exactly-what-it-says-on-the-tin (as well as telling you that they, personally, are never influenced by advertising).

The rhetorical response (rhetorical because I would never dare say it out loud) is to ask Mr or Ms Client: If you were a tin of wood varnish what brand would you be? Ronseal (C2)? Dulux Woodsheen (C1)? Colron high-gloss quality yacht varnish (only As and Bs need apply)? They are all chemically the same and the only difference is the way you perceive the branding and how it relates to you.

Or to take another example, why do I buy my sandwiches every Wednesday (I am a person of habit) from Pret-a-manger and not EAT? Pret-a-manger implies so many different and flattering messages (you are a person of intelligence because you understand Pret-a-manger is a French phrase; you are a person of distinction because you know French cuisine is the finest in the world; you are a person of open-minded tolerance because you are prepared to eat “foreign” food etc). Whereas EAT simply commands you, in C2-ish language, to stop what you are doing and eat.

So why isn’t all advertising witty, informative and multi-layered? Why are the Ronseal fans still in the ascendant? Why is Alan Sugar admired as a genius of the business world?

Secretly the majority of people are filled with doubt, anxiety and fear. They don’t want to work things out (no matter how rewarding it might be). They would much rather someone told them what to do.

That is why Churchill Insurance tells the (disgracefully stereotyped) under-achieving young removal man he won’t have to fill in any forms. That is why political dictatorships are so seductive. That is why Vincent Van Gogh killed himself.

Caveats:

Don’t take anything I say too seriously.

I might have the entirely opposite view tomorrow.

All of the above is (quite likely) the sort of manipulative twaddle that Roy Hattersley would spit at (except that political parties are among the most ruthless and rapacious of marketing machines - particularly the one he deputy-led for so many years).

More on flow state: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mih%C3%A1ly_Cs%C3%ADkszentmih%C3%A1lyi

The Challenge Churchill ad: http://www.tellyads.com/show_movie.php?filename=TA0149 (obviously this commercial does have multiple layers of meaning but I include it for the representation of the removal person who doesn’t like “fillin’ in forms”).

More on the death of Vincent Van Gogh: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dipFMJckZOM

Overheard in Asda

Getting the groceries on Saturday I overheard in Asda: “I want some of that coffee where he goes Mr Makusa, Mr Makusa”. It was in the aisle where the coffee, tea and biscuits are grouped together. Two women (undoubtedly C2 housewives) were debating which coffee to buy, and one of them referred to the Kenco ad featuring Oxbridge-accented plantation-owning Mr Makusa and the gawky red-haired gap-year student.

After a little searching one of them picked up a jar of Kenco and they both moved away. I looked at the shelves of instant coffee, many competing brands with little actual product difference. After a moment’s hesitation I also picked up a jar of Kenco, influenced by the choice of the C2 housewives.

As American marketing people say: the horse that wins by a nose only has to win by a nose.

In other words, when everything about competing products is identical, it is usually small elements of the brand personality that ensures one product out-sells another.

See for yourself: http://www.tellyads.com/show_movie.php?filename=TA1606&advertiser=Kenco/

People who make things happen

Above: the segmentation item was so interesting I watched it again on the BBC podcast.

At lunchtime today I watched Andrew Neil’s Daily Politics. It included an interesting item about how the Conservative Party is “micro-targeting” new segments of the electorate defined as: Holby City worker (middle-ranking health service employees); Top Gear man (angry with petty bureaucracy); Apprentice generation (young professionals coming to terms with political and financial reality); and Grand Designs (aspirational family pursuing an ethical lifestyle). I find this kind of segmentation and motivation fascinating.

It was also very useful in the afternoon planning meeting as I could quote “the latest research” and talk about new segments without anyone else being able to challenge me.

The programme also had Nick Wood commenting on the research. Nick Wood now has his own agency Media Intelligence Partners. He used to be media director for the Conservative Party and before that was a senior correspondent for The Times. He has a very good reputation for his network of contacts and the way he can manipulate news stories. Media Intelligence Partners is handling the PR for the Centre for Social Justice. In the programme he came across as very open and frank.

The interview I would really like to see would be with Steve Hilton, who is credited with much of the rebranding of the Conservative Party (which has to be one of the image renewals of the decade). He is one of the “people who make things happen” (Terry famous list). If “Dave” wins the general election Steve Hilton is poised to become one of the most important people in the country.



Above: the Conservative Party has come a long way since Norman Tebbit’s abrasive advice to the unemployed.

"No, I’m not handing them round"

Passing Rachel’s desk this afternoon I noticed an unopened packet of Parma Violets (“Why are you taking a photograph of my desk… if you want one you can take one… no, I’m not handing them round…”).

It made me wonder why she had chosen that particular packet of sweets out of all the variety on offer at the newsagents. As consumers in a Western post-industrial post-privation post-idealistic ultra-materialistic society we are what we “consume” (a much wider concept that simply eating). What was it about that “offering” (brand name, packaging, product attributes etc) that made her say “yes”?

The sweets have a unique synthetic taste, hard to describe (I can’t say it is the taste of violets, since I have never eaten a violet, but it is how I would expect a violet to taste were I actually to eat one).

More on the makers of Parma Violets: http://www.swizzels-matlow.com/

It’s the punters who make the decisions

Above: "Socks by Ravena" - exhibit in a museum display. I meant to go on and say (but time ran out last night) that the fashion industry IS changing. Promotions such as Ravena socks are hardly likely to be seen these days. But the issue of whether fashion should represent society as it is constituted (rather than reflect an idealised view) opens up all sorts of complications. Over-50s are never seen as "faces" on magazine covers. Obese women (a growing section of the population) are never seen. And the idealised view of beauty is problematical in itself, being composed of half-understood elements (how a woman sees herself, how a woman thinks others see her, how a woman thinks she ought to be seen etc). Marketing in western post-industrial societies is (in my opinion) about self-actualisation more than anything else. Get the self-actualisation right and the the audience (and sales) will follow.

Accusations in the press over the weekend about racism in the fashion industry. I know several fashion PRs and asked them (in a casual way) what they thought. They were all dismissive about the reports.

PR 1: “Models have to reflect the audience they are targeting. If more Afro-Caribbean people bought haute couture the industry would reflect this. Ultimately it’s the punters who make the decisions - and they can sack us at any time simply by not buying.”

PR 2: “Magazine editors experiment and test all the time to get the covers that perform the best. Believe me, if they could make more money by putting Naomi Campbell on the cover she would be on every issue. With the market as it is, no-one can afford to get things wrong.”

More on self-actualisation: http://www.researchandmarkets.com/reports/297178/motivators_to_buy_luxury_the_drive_to_self.htm

Is this the rudest bank in London?

London is a city full of banks - there are over 500 in the City alone. As well as the investment banks there are retail banks which provide banking services for ordinary people. There are four (the Big Four) retail banks in the United Kingdom - HSBC, Lloyds, Barclays and NatWest.

I have had an account with NatWest since university. At the time it was an excellent institution but over the years I have seen standards declining (or perhaps I have become more demanding?). Now NatWest is no different to all the other financial sharks (bombarding you with junk mail, finding ever more ingenious ways to slip charges onto your statement, pestering you with sales pitches whenever you try to carry out routine tasks).

Out of all the shops and offices where I have experienced poor (and sometimes downright bad) service, the NatWest branch in Pentonville Road (opposite the old Kings Cross Thameslink Station) ranks as the worst. Is this the rudest bank in London? The staff are off-hand and unhelpful, the manageress sarcastic and obstructive, and the counter-attendant/clerk who wears a headscarf is among the rudest people I have ever met (unfortunately there is a single-queuing system, otherwise I would avoid her).

If you ask one of the staff for information you get referred (in a cheeky don’t-waste-my-time manner) to a rack of leaflets.

What is wrong with these people?

A rotten fish stinks from the head downwards (as the Danes say) so you’ve got to blame Helen Page, the NatWest overall Marketing Director.

“Let him think he owes us big-time” - the past week at work

Monday

Apparently at the beginning of each year all the staff (Marketing and PR) are gathered into the Board Room and given a presentation on the agency’s objectives and targets for the next twelve months. The actual presentation is given by one of the Senior Directors (on our floor we were praying that it wouldn’t be Ian - otherwise several cases of rigor mortis might set in). In the event it was Val, the newest of the directors (just promoted at the end of last year).

Val is in her late thirties, but looks much younger. She has a very slim (veering to skinny) figure and golden blonde hair which she has in a longish bob. Her clothes are mostly pastel and pale in colour, and she never wears trousers (she makes a big thing of this). Her voice is high and a bit squeaky. Despite her little-girl-lost image she heads up the most successful of the PR account teams - including Rachel, Caroline, Douglas and Aine. She must be very tough to control Rachel and Caroline, both of whom can be headstrong and temperamental.

Anyway, we all crammed in the Board Room at 11 o’clock (most of us standing as the few seats were already taken). Val delivered her presentation competently. Terry (our MD) interrupted at various points to expand on particular issues.

Afterwards, in the hubbub as people were leaving the room, Val came over to Rachel who was sitting with me on the corner of a side table.

“How was my presentation?” Val asked Rachel hopefully.

“You were disappointing” Rachel told her in a flat voice (what could be described as a spiteful monotone).

“I know, I know” Val said, in an agony of self-doubt.

Tuesday

Terry gives us an entertaining budget to spend on our clients, and keeps reminding us to use it up. This is not as easy as it sounds, as not all clients want (or are allowed) to be “entertained”. Anyway, I still had some of 2007’s budget to use up, and went through my client list looking for someone suitable to spend it on.

Eventually I asked Beryl from BQW (Special Projects Division). In the short time I have been handling the client list she has so far remained distant (she always seems to have a slightly supercilious attitude towards me). She works at a BQW site in Northamptonshire, and so on Tuesday I borrowed Ian’s car (he drives into the office every day, despite the Congestion Charge) and drove down the M1.

We met at a big modern hotel on a roundabout just off the motorway junction. Put up in the mid-90s, the building was interesting in that all its external facades were masked by ornamental hedges (this was a deliberate part of the design, so that the hotel looked as if it had living green walls). The electric doors flew open and I walked into an atrium Reception where Beryl was waiting on a leather-upholstered bench.

Beryl is aged about 45, short with black hair (no grey), pear-shaped in black trousers, black silk top, black jacket.

We went into the comfortable bar and had drinks (put on the bill). We talked about our careers. She described her plan to travel round the world - this is a real plan, and she is taking six months off work to do this.

Into the Rotunda restaurant. Only one other table was occupied, which was perhaps a reflection of current doubts about the economy (normally every table would be filled with business people). Ragout of langoustines with tomato concasse and ginger; assiette of lamb with gratin potatoes, Provencal vegetables and rosemary jus; soufflé of Valhrona’s Manjari chocolate with chocolate sauce and toasted coconut ice cream (I chose the most expensive dishes as I wanted to use up the budget).

We were there almost two hours. I kept up a steady flow of questions, otherwise conversation would have lapsed (thankfully it never did, although Beryl wasn’t at all responsive). We talked about BQW special projects, and Beryl prefaced nearly every remark with “It’s a great story, but we can never tell anyone.”

As we were leaving the Head Waiter presented Beryl with a red and white orchid. It was a chunky flower with a beautiful lustrous bloom. In the car Beryl gave the orchid to me, saying she couldn’t possibly take it into her office.

I drove back to London, and parked Ian’s car in the cramped space he has in the mews at the back (I am always afraid of scraping the side when I do this). I didn’t know what to do with the orchid. It seemed too good to throw away, so I left it on the dashboard in Ian’s car.

Ian went down to the car to get his sandwiches, and when he came back he put the orchid on my desk. Again I didn’t know what to do with it. Eventually I put it in a tumbler of water and left it on Angela’s desk (she was out).

“You crawler” Ian shouted at me.

Wednesday

Angela flew into a rage with Sheila, Janette and Pete. It was more funny than alarming (this time). Possibly she was feeling humiliated at her exclusion from the Rocket presentation (Rocket is a client she used to handle (on Ian's behalf), but which we have “lost” as the contact there has been sacked - we are having to re-pitch for the business and Kate is adamant that Angela should not be involved).

Thursday

Peter Hain resigns. Terry (our MD) can’t stop talking about this. He has a background in parliamentary lobbying and knows several of the key players, giving us the benefit of his experience:

“The main problem is the power of the journalists. The old hands are all Oxbridge English graduates and have been taught to deconstruct arguments, so whatever line is put out, it gets pulled to pieces. The newer ones have come through the Media Studies route, so they know fuck-all.”

Friday

Our floor had the usual monthly meeting. Ian rambled on, mostly repeating what Val had said on Monday. Ben and Pete giggled and sniggered, everyone else sat looking blank.

After half-an-hour Kate and I left to go to the Rocket presentation, both of us glad to get out of the room.

By taxi to Holland Park Avenue. We were far too early and so had coffee and biscuits (in Tootsie’s) and looked into shop windows. Neither of us was looking forward to the meeting.

Into Rocket and a long wait in Reception. Then we were led into a small white meeting room. Sat at the round table in this room was Rosina, our previous contact who had been sacked and had now been reinstated - her presence at the meeting was a complete surprise to us (“I’m not very happy” she told us when we were briefly left alone together).

The General Manager (“Geoffrey”) was an arrogant lean man of about fifty-five, in a broad-striped navy blue suit. He had short grey hair and a handsome face set with deep cruel lines that indicated his expression in repose was a sneer. He was uninterested in what we had to say, and kept leaving the room to take telephone calls (Kate used the c-word the third time he interrupted our presentation - Rosina smiled and nodded).

Anyway, the upshot of the meeting was that the account is back with us. Rosina is our contact again. Everything in the garden is (ostensibly, and if you don’t look too closely) rosy.

“Don’t tell Ian how easy it was” said Kate on the way back. “Let him think we really had to fight. Let him think he owes us big-time.”

Joey Barton’s arrest and incarceration

Above: photograph of Joey Barton illustrating an article about the player by Daily Telegraph journalist Sue Mott. For some reason this picture has a quasi-religious caption (“Awaiting a visitation..”). Like most of Sue Mott’s writing, the article was very perceptive.

All through the Christmas and New Year holiday period the news bulletins and newspapers have reported footballer (soccer player) Joey Barton’s arrest and incarceration following his involvement in a brawl in a fast-food outlet on 27th December. He was held in a cell until today (surely a ridiculous over-precaution) when he was granted bail. Joey Barton plays for Newcastle, and has also played for the England team.

The circumstances in which he was arrested are familiar to anyone who has walked through a British town or city centre on any Friday or Saturday (and increasingly Sunday) night. But you would be foolish to actually go into a town centre at night at the weekend - they are becoming no-go zones for ordinary people. You can get an idea of what they are like from the “reality” series Booze Britain (a salacious look at excessively inebriated young men and women fighting, vomiting and urinating in public - reported in a self-righteous tone that would not be out of place in The Guardian).

Anyway, I had been following the career of Joey Barton as a possible candidate for endorsing one of the upstairs PR clients (I am helping Rachel with the campaign plan). Their product has a brand personality that includes “edgy abrasive newcomer” with a prospective target audience of early-adopters, risk-takers, males aged 25 to 45. Plus there is a chance we might have negotiated a competitive rate all factors considered (the budget for this campaign is not huge).

His arrest meant we had to take him off the short-list, but there is a lingering sense that he is being treated unfairly.

In interviews he comes across as someone very intelligent, but who has been failed by the education system, so that he has lots of sophisticated things to say, but no real means of expressing them (which I suppose explains the frustrated violence). In one television interview he said he didn’t care about media opinion but referred his conscience to a higher power - this was a surprisingly independent line to take (even though it is never wise to dismiss the media, whatever you might privately think). Despite all the (many) set-backs he has experienced his character exhibits incredible levels of self-confidence, indicating he is either very stupid, or has an exceptional degree of personal integrity.



Above: one thing I have noticed is that Joey Barton has an unusual tattoo (a bleeding gash) on the right side of his chest. It looks like he has the stigmata (“a sword shall pierce your heart also” etc). Does he have tattoos on his hands and feet as well?
Apologies to the photographer - this is not my image but one I found on the web and didn’t note the url (if you send me your name I’ll put in a credit, or alternatively I’ll take it down if you object).



Above: Christo muerto sostenido por un angel in the Museo del Prado. Despite the sombre subject, this is one of the most beautiful paintings I have ever seen (one of the Paintings That Changed My Life) - this photo of a postcard doesn’t really convey the impact the original will have on you. Notice the stigmata wound on the right side of the chest.

Where’s the sausage? by David Tayor

Above: David Taylor giving his presentation. It was moderately interesting, but did not have any “Ah-ha!” moments. He had been stuck in traffic for about half an hour, so possibly was not at his best.

Dark cold night. I entered a sprawling industrial estate on the edge of a featureless New Town (or rather, the main feature of the town was its featurelessness - I’m not being flippant, I would like to do a proper study on architecture, town planning and the anonymous modern life, using this town as an example). Parking on the side of the road (hardly any other cars about) I went into the Research Suite of a very big company (the Suite was situated just outside one of their main gates, security staff watching the arrivals warily).

Inside I went along a bland white corridor and into a large room absolutely crammed with people - professional people, mostly young, mostly wearing suits. About a third of the people were women. All were members of the Chartered Institute of Marketing (as myself).

In the centre of the room was a long table set out with a buffet meal, but because of the crowd you couldn’t move around easily and had to make the best of whatever food you could reach (sandwiches push crisps more pushing cakes that tasted of nothing retrace your steps hot drinks push…).

In the midst of this slow-motion scrum I suddenly found myself facing former work colleague Adrian Taylor. I hadn’t seen him for about three years. Momentary panic as I struggled to remember his name, then relief as it came to me.

We talked for about fifteen minutes. He described his year in Australia, his new job, how he had contacted the old company we used to work for (and not got a good reception, which doesn’t surprise me). He was at the meeting with a party of CIM students.

Then I talked to someone from a local publishing company. We were jammed in a corner of the room and so it only seemed polite to introduce myself. She was vaguely familiar and after a while I realised she had interviewed me for a job some years ago (I didn’t get it).

Finally I talked to a middle-aged marketing manager. When I told him I worked for a PR and marketing agency he launched into a tedious monologue about how superfluous PR was. I think he wanted to be provocative, but I just agreed with him absently.

From the door the CIM president shouted that we should “go through” to the small lecture theatre.

The speaker, David Taylor, was very very late. He was introduced by the CIM president as “one of the country’s top fifty marketing gurus”. He has his own agency (Brandgym), his own blog, and writes a monthly column for the CIM magazine.

David Taylor was very confident, taking us through a Powerpoint presentation about his new marketing book. This talk had been advertised as “a fabulous romp through the world of branding”. As an essential quality of effective brand development is not to over-promise, David Taylor should possibly rephrase this billing.

He began with a case-study:

“I have been privileged to get into Fruit Towers, the headquarters of Innocent… Dan writes all the Innocent packs himself, one a day, two hundred a year… marketing has the image of being a bit complex, but it doesn’t have to be…”

He moved backwards and forwards across the floor of the theatre. Thin, dark-suited, black-rimmed glasses. The things he was saying were individually interesting, but they didn’t seem to fit into any overall structure.

“Everyone’s saying: forget the product, concentrate on the emotion… everyone’s laddering up so that Cosmopolitan goes from being a magazine to becoming a lifestyle brand… but the best brands are doing the reverse…”

He showed us a montage of James Bond clips that seemed gratuitous and unrelated to what he was saying (or perhaps I wasn’t paying enough attention).

“Advertising is a tax for having an unremarkable product… the way to solve most marketing problems is to follow the money… the long term is just a series of short terms…”

The formal part of the presentation came to an end. David Taylor took questions from the audience. This question and answer session was monopolised by a young marketing executive from a big company who asked question after question related to a particular problem he was having at work - in the end David Taylor just cut him off and moved on.

The talk came to an end. There was a vote of thanks. As we left two young women gave out copies of David Taylor’s new book Where’s the sausage?



Above: Where’s the sausage? by David Taylor. It’s basically a novelisation of marketing diagnostics. The text is in a sans serif typeface which makes it difficult to read.

Wishing and hoping and slick advertising

This afternoon I went with Angela to the local post office. I went there to post a small package. Angela went there to sort out a problem.

Angela is Ian’s PA (and Ian is our immediate boss). Aged about thirty-five, she has a slim wiry build and wavy orange-red hair (sometimes permed into loose curls). Although she doesn’t have a great deal of formal education (no degree) and is “only” a PA she is very clever and has a lot of experience of PR and advertising (more than most of the account managers). Generally she is a model of quiet competence, but occasionally she flares up into an incredible (and alarming) temper. These “run-ins” with people are famous throughout the agency, and when roused her sarcastic shouting is impossible to stop (not even Terry, our MD, can calm her down). I have been told it is “only a matter of time” before I have a run-in with Angela (so far we have been on very good terms).

We had to queue at the post office, Angela directly in front of me. Eventually we came to the front of the line. Only two positions were open, and when one became free Angela went up to it.

Regulations on sending post changed earlier this year. Instead of paying by weight you now pay by size. So an A4 letter now costs 40p second class instead of 24p, even though the weight is the same as previously.

Angela had with her twenty books of self-adhesive 24p stamps.

“Can I have a refund on these and buy twenty books of the forty pence stamps?” she asked.

“No, we can’t give refunds” the woman said.

“Why not, they havn’t been used. They are still in their books. They’re perfect.”

“We can’t give refunds” said the woman (no apology, the woman’s tone was hard and unyielding).

“Well can I have…” (Angela paused to do a quick mental calculation) “…two hundred and forty sixteen-pence stamps?”

“Yes, I can give you those” (the woman began taking sheets of stamps out of a folder.

“Will they be self-adhesive?” Angela asked.

“No, they’re not self-adhesive.”

“What use is that!” Angela cried. “I don’t want to wet two-hundred and forty stamps.” I detected a familiar note of angry impatience entering her voice.

In the queue behind me an old boy began loudly complaining of the hold up. “Well they should open more windows” shouted Angela. Her arm flailed wildly, indicating the row of closed positions.

“Do you want the stamps or not?” the woman said.

“Hang on a minute - if I put a sixteen-pence stamp next to one of these second-class adhesive ones on an envelope can you guarantee the Post Office isn’t going to find some technicality and chuck them back at me?”

“They should go through if they have the right postage” said the woman.

“What do you mean they should? Will they go or won’t they? This is important.”

“Is she STILL there” said the old boy.

“They should open more windows” cried Angela. Again her arm flailed wildly. Her voice had a note of desperation in it, as if she wanted to cry.

“You’re alright there” said a sympathetic middle-aged woman in the queue. “You’ve got a complaint and you need to sort it out. You’re alright.”

“I can’t handle this” the woman behind Angela’s counter said dismissively. She rolled down the (dirty) green Position Closed sign and walked away into the depths of the inner office. Angela was left stranded.

By this time I was at the only remaining open position. I sent off my package and then asked for two-hundred and forty sixteen-pence stamps. I passed the stamps to a fuming Angela.

“Roll on privatisation” Angela yelled to the waiting queue as we left the post office.



Above: Westlife, Joan Collins, Ant & Dec - where is the cash-strapped Post Office getting the money for all these expensive celebrities? Surely they are not spending public money on propaganda? And why is Joan Collins (who is a Star by any standards) getting involved in something so tacky?

I like the idea of the Post Office in theory. And small corner-shop post offices (where they sell boiled sweets, and newspapers, and those paper lids for home-made jam) are generally staffed by pleasant and helpful people. But the “main” post offices in towns and cities seem to be staffed by people who go out of their way to be rude and obstructive (this is a generalisation - occasionally you get very good service, sometimes from the very same people who are ordinarily unhelpful).

The Post Office is currently running a television campaign done by Shoreditch ad agency Mother using celebrities such as Joan Collins and the members of Westlife. Obviously I havn’t read the brief for this campaign, but I have already seen enough to know I don’t like it. Dishonesty permeates the whole concept.

The exterior shot is of a corner post office (positive feelings), but the interior morphs into one of the depressing “main” post offices (very very negative feelings). And why have they used so many different and disparate celebrities, or is this just a crude device to get attention? The scenarios are unbelievable (Bill Oddie might buy his own stamps, but Joan Collins and the members of Westlife would never queue up in a post office - it doesn’t even work as a fantasy dream sequence since the dialogue is so clunky and banal).

Most offensive of all is the characterisation of “Ken”, “Jill”, “Amir” and “Ted”. Friendly, well-meaning, funny - they are a million miles away from the horrible reality of actually meeting one of the Post Office counter staff. Wishing and hoping and slick advertising will not change a bad experience into a good one.

There is a great deal of bad advertising around, and normally I just look away (my hands are just as dirty as everyone else's). But this is dishonest and self-indulgent garbage. Whoever did this should be tarred and feathered at the next D&AD awards.

Save The Cottage Loaf

Above: Is the cottage loaf disappearing from our culture? I had to order this one from a local baker (cost 70p). The cottage loaf is a traditional English bread that dates back centuries – I feel I should form a Save The Cottage Loaf campaign (and be pilloried as a crank, a nimby and a reactionary running dog).

Asda supermarket are currently running television commercials featuring Victoria Wood working in the bakery department of a northern Asda store. In the first of a series of seven ads you see her “learning craft skills” and producing batches of “Hedgehog” loaves in a heart-warming (but very hard-working) atmosphere among down-to-earth Gateshead folk. It’s directed by Patrick Collerton (who did The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off).

The Guardian has a feature on it: http://media.guardian.co.uk/site/story/0,,2057748,00.html

The commercial makes me uneasy for three reasons:

1) It’s feeding us celebrities yet again.

2) It’s feeding us fly-on-the-wall “reality” television yet again (faked, like all reality television).

3) The basic sales pitch (that Asda is preserving the craft skills of hand-made bread) is a lie.

Asda, more than most supermarkets, is the ENEMY of food diversity. If a particular loaf doesn’t meet their production specifications it doesn’t get into the stores. How often do you see a cottage loaf in Asda? And because cottage loaves don’t feature in the supermarkets they cease to exist in the popular imagination, so less and less people are aware of them and take the homogenized goods on offer. Does this matter? I think so.

Cottage loaves have been baked in this country for hundreds of years, and were the ritual bread used in the wassailing ceremony (slices were dipped in the wassailing bowl and then hung upon the apple trees). They are mentioned by Charles Dickens in Our Mutual Friend (“My own exclusive breakfast, of a penny cottage loaf and a pennyworth of milk…”). They are as much part of our heritage as Westminster Abbey (that’s my entry for the pompous remark of the day award).

Robert Senior, at Fallon (the agency that did the ads) said: “Basically, if a brand or company doesn't have a strong moral compass then consumers are going to stop trusting you.” This advertisement does not prove Asda have a strong moral compass. It pretends that Asda are preserving “craft skills” when in fact the chain is destroying food diversity. On a wider level, Asda has a reputation for predatory pricing that undermines family-owned shops (including bakers) within the orbit of an Asda store, driving them out of business. They also have a reputation for rapacious purchasing that undermines family-owned farms, again driving them out of business. I’m sorry if I am ranting a little, but it is the dishonesty of the double-speak that annoys me.

By the way, I shop at Asda every week (recently converted from Tesco) and there are many things I like about the store. They have an authentic no frills style (they don’t pretend to be anything other than what they are). You can buy Reese Butter Cups. The staff tend to be older and have better manners than the teenagers you meet at Tescos. You can see huge numbers of Poles and Lithuanians shopping there (which I find interesting, although I guess many people wouldn’t). You don’t feel you are being “sold” to (although in reality you are being sold to all the time – the supermarkets are masters of manipulation).




Above: While I was at the bakers buying my cottage loaf I also got these poppy seed rolls, which come from the Jewish tradition.

What does Switzerland mean to you?

I do a little freelance work for a financial services company. It’s not a big assignment – I meet the owner every three months or so, we have dinner while he pours out his problems (usually work-related), I filter them down into marketing proposals, his staff action them (or don’t), my cheque arrives in the post at the end of the next month.

Anyway, recently I’ve been asking: what image comes into the mind of the customer when they hear a certain word or brand name (and an image WILL come into their mind, whether they want it to or not).

In particular, what does Switzerland mean to you?

Above: Swiss chocolate and Swiss cheese. I was surprised to realise my ‘fridge is hardly ever without these items (some of the many things I buy without thinking). The cheese comes with genuine Swiss holes.

Above: the novels of Anita Brookner. She is not actually a Swiss writer but most of her books have a Swiss location or connection. I was introduced to her work by Helen B. Hotel du Lac won the Booker prize (Hotel du Lack of Interest I think The Guardian called it). Helen first started reading Anita Brookner because of the author’s connection with the Courtauld Institute. Anita Brookner’s writing is mesmerising. Nothing EVER happens. Her characters work in bookshops, go for walks beside Swiss lakes, experience life passing them by. And yet she makes these bland people seem sympathetic and absorbing. As a former copywriter I take a professional interest in this ability. Many times in my career I have been called upon to write about nondescript machines, incomprehensible financial products, electronic data storage systems etc. I used to console myself with the thought that even Kafka had to write health and safety manuals in his day job.

Above: Switzerland means The Reichenbach Falls. This is the location where Sherlock Homes battled with the evil Professor Moriarty and both plunged to their “deaths” although Conan-Doyle later revived Sherlock Holmes (including to help British Intelligence on the eve of the First World War in His Last Bow). I saw this advertisement in the Daily Telegraph and immediately wanted to take the Jungfrau Express from London to the Reichenbach Falls (note the ad’s use of long copy).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reichenbach_Falls

Above: The Matterhorn, first climbed by a British team in 1865. As a symbol of Switzerland it is hard to beat - clever of INVESCO to use it as their logo associating them with the solidity of the mountain, the cleanness of the snow, the aspiration of the soaring peak. Financial Services are synonymous with Switzerland (a Swiss bank account says more about you than cash ever can, to paraphrase American Express), although this association has not always given them a good image (ie Prime Minister Jim Callaghan’s frequent anti-semitic jeers about the “gnomes of Zurich”).

Above: The Matterhorn also features in this novel by Michael Frayn. Frayn is one of our greatest living writers, although he doesn’t get the same kind of exposure as lesser writers such as Martin Amis, Ian McEwan, and Julian Barnes (I think all three are over-rated as novelists – they are treated by interviewers with the sort of reverence reserved for minor rock stars). Anyway, say “Switzerland” to me and I will think of the Matterhorn and then I will think of Michael Frayn – it’s the chaotic way my mind works.