Nothing But The Same Old Story (And That's Why We Love It!)

This week's post comes courtesy of my colleague Anne Tannam, guest contributor and Brand Manager at Islandbridge.

Recently I was chatting with my colleague (and sometimes brother) about Guinness' 'Made of More' and Smirnoff's 'We're Open' ad campaigns, and his reactions to both.

These ad campaigns celebrate inclusivity and integrity, focussing on individuals who see beyond the restrictive norms of society to our common humanity. In one of their ads, Smirnoff uses the example of Chris Fonseca, an amazing dance teacher, who happens to be deaf, and John Hammond, a music scout, who heard no colour in music.

What's The Story?

With such similar content and messaging (seeing beyond our differences to the bonds of real community), he was surprised how different his response was to both. In the case of 'Made Of More', he felt a strong emotional response to the story. However his reaction to 'We're Open' was more a critical evaluation of the ad and how well it worked.

Simply put, he watched the Guinness ad heart first and the Smirnoff ad head first.

There are many possible factors at play here that may predispose his preferences, one being personal taste, another being tribal (we are Irish and the black stuff flows through our collective veins), but I got to thinking about how we connect with brands through story and though we like some variation to add a bit of spice to the relationship, ultimately, we are looking to hear the same story over and over again, to reassure us that the rules of engagement have not changed and that our shared values remain the same.

A Brand New Old Story

So I had a look online at older Guinness ad campaigns and discovered that Guinness has been telling this story for years and years. The characters and backdrops may change but the values stay the same.  It's a magical story of an individual who dares to think differently, live differently, love differently, and how community is built when we celebrate those ordinary, heroic traits in all of us. It's a universal story and if Guinness were a Pixar film, theirs would be A Bug's Life and Flik the hero.

I asked myself the same question about Smirnoff and what story they were telling and in the end concluded that the ad is less about telling a great story, and more about asserting an attitude, an attitude that is of great value and substance but struggles to reach the heart the way a great story does.

When a brand consistently stays true to its story, it frees up its audience to enter the story and respond, not just as consumers, but as fellow travellers on life's adventures. And of course, in that state of emotional openness, we are much more likely to be persuaded to buy whatever product is on offer. We're got to live in the real world after all!

Over To You

What has been your response to the Guinness and Smirnoff ad campaigns or what other brand stories have you responded to recently? We'd love to hear from you.

Anne works alongside Gerard and the team at Islandbridge Brand Development to help our clients develop a brand framework within which they can build new relationships and strengthen existing ones to gain competitive edge and grow their business. 

A Saab Passing

So Saab is on the way out. And I am a little less for it.


To paraphrase John Donne (and with apologies to the poetry purists amongst you):


Each brand's death diminishes me, for I am involved in brandkind. Therefore, send not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.


News of the imminent demise of what Brandchannel describes as "the first venerable, standalone global brand" to fall casualty to the worldwide crisis in car-production, has provoked a reaction more suited to the announcement of a death in the extended family.


But it's only a brand, you might say. And not a very successful one at that, if sales are anything to go by. And if you're the brand-owner (General Motors, in this instance), then it's only natural that you're inclined to switch off the life-support when your ailing brand is flatlining.


Now, I'm a Saab-owner as well as a brandmaker, and whilst I can see the business-case for shutting down a brand that's not performing (and remember, the purpose of a brand is to influence choice), I am doubly diminished at the passing of this great brand.


Perhaps it's because I've grown rather fond of my own Saab? 


And it seems I'm not alone. I've written previously in Open-Heart Branding that I'm not especially into cars, but my choice of Saab made sense when I went to buy my first new car some years ago. That post prompted a remarkable reaction, not just from my regular readers, but from Saab-lovers worldwide. A number of them contacted me directly to tell me of their own love-affair with the brand.


Judging from the language used by industry analysts, it appears that the brand is widely-mourned by those who appreciated Saab's "quirky designs and mastery of turbocharging". (Even if, like me, you're not quite sure what turbocharging is, you've got to love a brand that's mastered it.) Brandchannel refers to it as a "storied brand" and reports how General Motors (who bought the brand in 1989) "slowly strangled a proud heritage with a paucity of new products."


Elsewhere, CNN talks of the death and loss of a "brand we loved", whilst others talk of the 'devastating' news of the demise of a brand with real character. Almost everyone lays the blame for the death of the brand squarely at General Motors' door, accusing the manufacturer of stripping Saab of its singular, angular design and reducing it to just another lookalike car.


No, it's not just that I'm a Saab-owner and a brandmaker. The death of any great brand diminishes us all.


When brands are at their best, they contribute hugely to the richness of our lives. Representing the distinctive relationship between buyer and seller, they make customer choice easier and a lot more interesting. Like many other global manufacturers, General Motors doesn't understand that.


Saab isn't being killed off because it didn't matter. Starved and neglected, it suffered because General Motors ignored the brand's rich heritage and made a series of poorly-judged changes that rendered the brand almost unrecognisable and left it a pale, bland shadow of its former self.


Bewleys suffered the same fate here in Ireland, whilst Guinness was victim to some appalling advertising in the late '90s that threatened to kill off the brand before it finally regained much of its old strength thanks to a return to brand values.


Like Saab, these brands matter.


To paraphrase John Donne again:


No brand is an island, entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea (or put to death by a hapless manufacturer that deeply misunderstands brands), then we are all the less.


Send not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for us all.


Farewell old friend, we'll miss you.


Over To You: Are you saddened by the passing of this great brand or do you think mourning a car-marque is just a little over the top?