The following article is the unedited version of a feature that first appeared in the Yorkshire Post, dated 16th March 2010.
Brilliant. Articulate. Electrifying. That’s Gordon Brown.
Don’t think so? Already clicking off in a disagreeable rage?
That’ll be Brand Brown at work. Or not, depending on your perception of our current PM.
Fancy new pad?
There’s a school of thought that says an individual cannot be a brand; that brands are only whipped off corner shop shelves or worshipped in those churches of consumption, the retail parks cloned so inevitably up and down our country. But, having worked in marketing for longer than I care to remember, not to mention trying to persuade much of the nation to splash its cash on anything from iPhones to eye tests, from to feminine hygiene to even fancier new pads, I’m in the camp that firmly believes a person can be a brand.
Anything that needs to sell as a product, as a service, as an idea, automatically comes as a brand. That’s because the potential customer has to have a perception, a feeling, a sense of a set of values they are buying into, in order to make a choice. That perception is the brand. And God knows, in the run-up to a general election, the whole country has a choice to make and Gordon could do with some seriously good marketing right now.
A deeper shade of Brown
In reading, and scoffing at the first three words of this article, you’d possibly agree. But the fact is you’re not invited to Edinburgh University at sixteen, where you gain a First Class Honours MA followed by a PhD, all whilst becoming the establishment’s youngest ever Rector in history, without being brilliant. You don’t become a Member of Parliament without being able to deftly communicate your point of view. And you certainly don’t have your early speeches labelled by peers and respected political journalists alike as ‘electrifying’ if they’re anything short of high voltage.
But that’s probably not how you think of Gordon Brown is it.
And that’s where Brand Brown has failed Gordon Brown.
As my Old Man used to say about John Major, “What the hell are his PR team playing at?”
But, as anyone who knows their marketing onions will tell you, it takes more than just PR to make a winning brand; it takes the full marketing mix. Yep, ‘fraid so, but our ex-Chancellor of over a decade has to be on the money on everything from advertising to direct marketing, from social media to PR.
The big question asked a lot right now is can Gordon turn around a devastating start as PM to win the forthcoming election?
That’s debatable until the final ballot paper is checked off, not least because of a turn-out that was so disinterested at the last election, Big Brother was blessed with more votes. These people can be brought out of their shells by a change in perception; by a tweak of Brand Brown. And the Tory voters? Well, wasting any kind of marketing budget on that audience in the short-term isn’t advisable and it’s too late in the day for a rebrand of Brown to have any effect anyway. No. The ones who were shy last time round, the as yet, undecided and Labour voters threatening abstinence are the ones to unleash new Brand Brown on.
Starting with advertising. Getting caught up in childish tit-for-tat advertising that does nothing more than parody so-called popular culture is a complete no-no. The recent billboards showing Cameron and Osbourne sporting ice-cream Jedward haircuts and the equally, limp-wristed line, ‘You won’t be laughing if they win’ is nothing short of derisory especially when Brown has the opportunity to wipe the floor with an opposition party leader who acts like a salesman without any products to shift. So the first thing is, don’t even advertise. Book the space by all means but then use it to tell the nation what your policies are and you’ll have pulled yourself out of the same desperate name-calling playground the Tories inhabit immediately.
What about direct marketing? A more targeted approach that grabs people on their doorsteps. Well, that’s just it – Gordon isn’t communicating. He’s too busy defending the damaging attacks about damaging attacks. When more of the waverers are warming to the idea that Brown may not be a soggy biscuit after all, he needs to capitalise on that forthright perception, get out there and talk to people. More importantly, he needs to get his team out there – on Britain’s doorsteps rallying the undecided, persuading the passive.
Which segues in to social media. Whilst social media will not be the be all and end all that many marketers would have us believe, it will be an essential communication tool for reshaping any brand. But it’s a tool that should be handled with the utmost care as any big brand such as Vodafone, Paperchase or Toyota will tell you. You’re watched 24 hours a day, 7 days a week online and anything that can be picked up will be lofted high into the baying crowd and the soggy end used to beat you where it hurts until the baying crowd becomes an exponentially larger anti-you mass. So Brown needs to practise his YouTube camera presence. And then practise again. Learning to smile is good. Smiling in the wrong places is devastating. So he needs to practise unnaturally obsessively until his straight-to-camera ease appears totally natural.
And talking of appearances, this one is for Brown’s PR boys and girls. Gordon really needs to think about the company he keeps. Whilst he momentarily climbed up the greasy polls with a more human appearance on Piers Morgan the other night, he immediately dumped himself amongst a shallowbrity set of peers including Katie Price or Jordan or whoever she is these days, Vinnie Jones and Dannii Minogue.
Perhaps a shame to say it, but it does bring down his brand perception and to half-quote my Old Man, ‘His PR team could have played it better’ – with perhaps an appearance with Paxman or even a special chat with Hard Talk’s Stephen Sackur. Gordon could have communicated his more human side in more credible surroundings – in other words, he needs to choose his battles wisely.
And if there’s just one thing Gordon should remember if nothing else – it’s be yourself in a crowded market. He may not like it but his competition is not just Cameron, it’s his predecessors, most crucially, Tony Blair. And whilst Blair is undoubtedly a bloke who would join the navy so the world could see him, that’s not Brown’s style.
To imitate would be disastrous.
To find, then hammer home the main points of difference could be the key to becoming our next, elected PM.
Getting Oor Wullie every Sunday. Neeps 'n' tatties. 20-a-side footbaw games. Hiding in the communal bins at the bottom of my granny and granda's Tweed Street flat. My older cousin knocking hell out of me. Getting The Broons every day.
I’ve the fondest memories of sporadically growing up in Fife. I say sporadically because, as my mum, God rest her soul, was from Dunfermline and we lived in Leeds, I spent long but intermittent weeks skirmishing amongst family over the border. Surviving as a Sassenach sprog in Fife became second nature; the superb lilt of east coast Jockanese became my second language.
Which helped me out a good few years later as, having had one too many Tetley’s one night in a Leeds city centre tavern, I was press-ganged into joining Her Madge’s Royal Navy and found myself stationed on a big grey ship docked at Rosyth.
As it was compulsory in the then male-dominated navy to be a great big kid, I now have the pleasure of a second round of fondest memories of growing up again in Fife.
Healthy banter with the dockies. Unhealthy relations with the local ladies. The Gladyer Inn. McEwan’s beer that magically managed acceptability only after a gallon of the stuff. Lorenzo's cattle market. Chip shop owners who battered Mars Bars and pizzas. Local lads who battered English lotharios.
But more importantly great people. People who took the shit weather on their chins and lairy louts like me to their hearts. People who cared enough about each other to say hello through the frost-bitten breeze.
Which is why this ad below for the region, very kindly brought to my attention by Claire, the lady that gies us the ad chat, cuts me to the quick. None of the great people are featured.
The grit of the community.
The soul of the place.
Missing, presumed conveniently shoved out of the way. Replaced by plastic.
Conspicuous by their absence. Which in turn makes me suspicious.
So many forced Hollywood grins instead of natural Holyrood smiles.
So much so, it becomes wallpaper.
In fact wallpaper’s too good. Instead it becomes cheap ‘n’ nasty woodchip – the chips being all those pearly white teeth – covering up the cracks. Covering up the real face of a place that deserves better treatment.
Ok this is an ad to attract people, to garner investment. So I’m not suggesting that Imran pops up, deep frying his cheesecake at the Shalimar on Queensferry Road. Or showing another pound shop closing down in Dumfs. I’m not even suggesting they’ve misinterpreted the ‘real spirit’ the teeth-grating jingle bangs on about because there isn’t a bottle of whisky in sight.
No. I’m merely saying that, because this ad is caked in so much gloss, ladled with so much cheese and battered with so much over-egging, it’s clogging up the arteries of reality. It's become far too unhealthy.
They’ve sucked the very life out of Fife.
The friendly lot where I’m plying my trade at the mo have just brought this lil’ beauty to my attention. And as it’s nearing the festive season, I thought I’d allow myself just one smidgen of puerile fun poking. No ‘arm Guv’nor – especially when the victim sprawling haplessly in the stocks has slyly slinked to get one over on their rivals.
Throwing rotten cabbages and cocking a snook to the competition is electrical retailer, Dixons. Those with a keen eye for any recent marketing endeavours to prise our coins from our consumerist clutch may recall Dixons’ campaign attacking the likes of Harrods, John Lewis and Selfridges.
Forget the fact that the tone of the copy scrapes its nails against all my sensibilities; forget that through the ads, employees of the aforementioned outlets are dealt a snide dig for daring to possess that rarer-than-rocking-horse-shit trait these days of politeness, or achieving more than a couple of GCSE’s in anything else but twokking or stopping grannies' hearts; forget that the consumer who reads the ads is sneered at for having the testicles to even think of venturing into such an emporium of middle class aspiration and simpering niceties; “Oooh no Madam, you wanna get yourself down to Shitsville… that’s right… where you belong dear… a vast repurposed cow shed where, if you can manage to pull each foot off the pre-gummed carpet and you don’t mind the smell of fags, cheap smellies and piss, you’ll feel right at home with an uneducated, disinterested ex-truant who’ll jump on you as soon as you tip a peripheral peek at the playstations – but don’t worry love, they’ll be a good tenner cheaper.”
(Not my opinion of the lovely people at Dixons you understand, but these ads may as well spew this bile from the rafters.)
Oh no, forget all that. Just remember that the campaign concept is a fairly age-old one of ‘Try everywhere else then come to us’; in other words you may as well come to Dixons last because you’ll see we’re cheaper. Fair enough; it’s not rocket science but its simplicity dictates that in most cases it should work.
Unless you forget you can’t just roll out a campaign across all media without a jot of thought. Unless you forget that a campaign tagline must be in context for it to communicate what you actually want to say. Unless you’re in such a rush to get your shiny new pleased-as-punch strapline up on your website nestling next to your logo that you forget it would probably be more suited to a bagel fight in Baghdad sporting nothing but a ‘Bush is Brill’ t-shirt.
Where the bloody hell are those GCSE’s when you need ‘em?
If you’re going to give the green light on product placement, fair enough – it’s simply another viable channel option in what should be any brand’s integrated marketing mix. But don’t tell us you’re just thinking about it. You’ve been spamming us for ages with product placement, as this clip from last Friday’s Coronation Street shows to Ouchrageous effect.
