I Have Called You By Your Name And You Are Mine

A guest post from Anne Tannam, Brand Manager at Islandbridge:

Recently my youngest daughter Sian, just turned eighteen, was queuing for a drink at the Longitude Music Festival. Armed with name and photo identification, she asked for her beer of choice. The barman took her identification and studied it very carefully for what seemed like a long time. My daughter was ready to hotly defend her real age when the barman looked up at her, smiled and said 'Do you know we have a bottle of Coke here with your name on it?'

Yes, I'm Talking To You

That story, along with the empty Coke bottle proudly bearing her name, came home with Sian and it once again illustrated the power of a great brand to reach out to its customers and make them feel special. No matter what age we are or how sophisticated and grown up we become, when someone calls us by our name, we feel special, known, understood. And more likely and willing to engage with the person or company who takes the time and trouble to learn it.

Of course, with an unusual name like 'Sian' that teachers and peers have been misspelling and mispronouncing since she was very small, Sian's excitement at seeing her name right there and spelt correctly may not be a typical response but I suspect that for most of us, seeing our name boldly displayed across a bottle of Coke will at least bring a smile to our lips. And more importantly, from a marketing perspective, more likely to dig into our pockets and buy the drink.

Share The Love With....

Like all powerful brands, it's not enough to simply reach out to individuals. A great and enduring brand must also help create its own tribe, loyal and true to the brand and each other. So what Coke have done is not just put people's names on their bottles; they've created a reason for people to talk to one another, given people a reason to buy a Coke for each other. My daughter and her friends have all bought coke bottles bearing the names of siblings, parents and friends. Whatever shop they enter, they quickly scan the coke bottles to see if there is a familiar name looking out at them.

Over To You

Very few businesses have the budget to put customer's names on their products (nor does it always make business sense) but there are many other ways to build your brand and make your customers feel acknowledged and understood.

• Have a look at the messages currently on your website. Are the messages primarily about how great and wonderful your business is or are they about the problems your customer faces and how you can help them?
• Whether by email, phone or face to face, make sure you address your customer in a personable and genuine manner. Does your customer always get your full and undivided attention?
• Through forums, blogs or simply a call for feedback, invite your customers to share their experiences and stories with you and each other. How easy do you make it for customers to spread the good news?

What other ways can you show your customers that you know and understand them? Please leave a comment. We'd love to hear from you.

The Queen She Came To Call On Us

He thought he saw a buffalo, upon the chimney-piece.
He looked again, and found it was his sister's husband's niece.
'Unless you leave this house,' he said, 'I'll send for the police'
from The Mad Gardener's Song, by Lewis Carroll

He thought he saw a sweet old lady admiring the gardens by the river, but when he looked again, this mad gardener found it was a wise monarch healing the divisions between her people and the peoples of this island.

Islandbridge, indeed.

By any account, this has been an extraordinary week in our island life, and each of us here has been moved in their own way by the words and deeds of Queen Elizabeth as she made friends and deeply influenced people. Her visit had added resonance for me, as it put Islandbridge, the place for which I named my business, firmly on the map, and for so many good reasons.

For most people, Islandbridge is an unfamiliar part of Dublin, its name only heard in occasional traffic reports. Many people would struggle to say where it is exactly. For me, there are strong family associations with the place. My dad played there in the fields and worked in the market gardens as a boy, and rowed on the river above the bridge as a young man. I was born a long stone's throw from the spot, and remember crossing it with friends to get to the playground of the Phoenix Park beyond.

When it came time to name my new business back in 2004, I knew I wanted to locate it by land and water (for enterprise has always sprung up in these places). As I crossed over landscapes in my mind, I naturally came to the banks of the legendary river of the city where I was born, and walked its length, stopping briefly to consider Leixlip (or Salmon's Leap, which struck me as a bold name for a new business) before coming to rest at Islandbridge.

(You'll appreciate that I gave neither Ballsbridge or Butt Bridge a second's thought...)

I liked Islandbridge for all of the childhood associations they held for me, but most of all because it seemed to me to indicate something of what we do for our customers. There is a gap between buyer and seller, and it is the task of the brand-builder to bridge it.

But of course a brand does so much more. It takes nothing at face value but helps the trader to look beyond the thing itself to understand what it means for the other person. And in understanding what that means, the brand honours it. That for me is why the visit of a sweet old lady to my Islandbridge is even more powerful.

She understands that she is not just any old lady. She understands too that she is not even any old monarch. She is someone who stands for so much more in these islands. For some of us, she is the familiar face of a once-oppressive regime. For others, she represents the core of their cultural heritage, the head of their church and the source of their identity. Others again see her as a dinosaur, a relic of another age with no relevance in this.

But this week, she stood for something else again, something that really matters. This week, she played the part of healer, acknowledging the hurtful divisions, and somehow rendering them less painful, less relevant. In honouring our dead, and charming our living, she helped us to find a way to connect again with these neighbours of ours who are so maddeningly like us and so maddeningly not like us. Which is, of course, the case in all extended families.

She also changed for me the meaning of my Islandbridge, and made it even sweeter, more significant and more powerful. For if a little old lady can make such an important gesture at Islandbridge, what can a mad gardener do for the courageous entrepreneurs who make their way to that place?

He thought he saw a queen of hearts, bow down before the flowers.
He looked again, and found it was a crown with healing powers.
'If she mends hearts,' he did declare, 'we'll make her one of ours.'
(with apologies to Lewis Carroll)

A Fear Of Shopping

This article first appeared on Bloggertone, a great resource for people in business.

Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the marketplace…

At first glance, you could easily make the mistake of thinking that everything was normal. On the surface, there appears to be a lot of activity. People are milling about, shaking hands, exchanging cards and talking business. Sometimes, one meeting leads to another and then to an invitation to send on more information or submit a proposal. But more often than not, it just leads to another meeting.

Then it hits you what’s not normal about this marketplace: It seems everyone’s a seller. There’s a great buzz out there but it’s terribly one-sided. People are pitching like crazy but hardly anyone is buying.

If money makes the world go round, this world has come shuddering to a halt.

And then a terrifying thought strikes with the suddenness of a great white: What if this is the new normal?

When you think about it, it’s not so surprising that buyers are in fear of shopping. Like day-trippers at the beach after a shark attack, it’s going to take something special to coax them back into the water.

Simply calling out to them to ‘Come in, the water’s beautiful’ isn’t going to do it. Not whilst the memory of the earlier carnage is still strong.

Of course, there’s not so much money floating about anymore, but it’s much more than that. There’s been a whole breakdown in trust between seller and buyer and nobody feels safe anymore. The ancient warning ‘Buyer beware’ rings out across the surface and never seemed more apt.

So what are you going to do about it?

In many ways, it’s ridiculously simple. You need to address the fears of your customers head-on. There’s no point in pretending nothing’s happened. There’s blood in the water and, as far as your customer is concerned, it’s sellers just like you who preyed on the unwary and spilt it there.

Using the same discredited language as those other sellers doesn’t help. That only confuses things further. You’ve got to find a new way to pitch your wares, a way that dispenses with the hype and rings true for your customer.

Dazzling them with science doesn’t help either. At a time when your customer doubts their own good judgement, it’s up to you to keep it plain and simple. Toss out the jargon and make your offer in layman’s terms.

As you’ll have guessed, this is no time for smoke and mirrors. When people feel safe, a certain mystery or intrigue can work wonders by adding some excitement to the mix. But in troubled times, mysterious gestures or vague promises become furtive and unsettling. Don’t be obscure or ambiguous. Instead, bring everything out into the open.

Be open too about your own motives in making the sale. When buyers have been savaged by offers that were too good to be true, there’s something powerfully reassuring about a deal that clearly adds up for both sides. Your exchange with your customer should work for you both, so don’t be coy about what’s in it for you.

Take the risk out of doing business with you for your customer wherever you can. Clearly display your terms of business and underpin your offer with a solid guarantee. Reassure your customer that you’re genuinely committed to making things work and are prepared to back that up with action.

But above all, be patient. Remember that your customer’s fear of shopping is well placed. It’s not so long since the waters turned red in a frenzy of bloodletting. Whatever you do, don’t rush your customer.

It’s up to you now to make those waters safe, and show them to be safe, in order that buyers can confidently take the plunge again and rediscover their love of shopping.

Look Daddy, I'm A Real Brand

Making lists can be a useful thing to do in many instances, but not when it comes to building a brand.

If we made a list of the moving parts, the ankle wouldn't support the weight of the human body and the bumblebee would be earthbound. If we simply made a list, one company would be much like any other and the customer would simply choose the fastest, the cheapest, the newest or the most convenient.

So how do you move beyond making lists to building a business that’s much more than the sum of its moving parts?

That’s where the brand comes in.

The brand breathes life into the tangle of drawstrings and carved wood of the business so that it can step into a lively exchange with the customer. This animation is what makes the difference between one business and another.

The magical exchange that makes for a great business always takes place in this space between the buyer and the seller. When the brand is brought to life, the customer is encouraged to step towards the vendor and dance together towards a profitable conclusion.

Too many businesses are content to simply make and publish a list of their accomplishments and are surprised when a rival cuts in and dances off with their customer.

Successful brands on the other hand know that they must move beyond the list of moving parts and breathe deeply into the business so that the exchange with the customer takes on a life of its own.

All I Want For Christmas

As I wrote in my most recent post, this down-time over Christmas is proving hugely productive in terms of some of the ideas it's prompting for work on my return to the office in early January.

(I know I should be switching off completely but it's extraordinary the thoughts that come unbidden to my head when I'm settling down to tackle the second layer in the chocolate box).

Watching the response of my children to Santa's presents in particular has sharply reminded me of the crucial difference between 'need' and 'want'. As marketers, we're often tempted to ask what our customer needs in much the same way as the conscientious parent wants what's best for the child. The child (and the customer) are quick to recognise how this lofty attitude leaves everyone feeling beyond reproach and it's not uncommon for the child to tell us what they 'need' (when they're really describing what they 'want'): 'I need those expensive trainers so that I can play well for the team'.

U2's Bono nails it when he sings: You say you'll give me a treasure just to look upon it...a river in a time of dryness...when all I want is you.

Meanwhile, there's a clever Bank of Ireland ad that suggests that the bank knows how to play this game too with students looking for a loan.

It's terribly important, of course, that we make offer to others with a keen eye on what they need but we mustn't forget that the market makes its choices based on what it wants rather than on what it needs. Naturally, when both 'want' and 'need' stand happily together, we have the makings of a marriage made in a blessed space but when the two fall out, it's 'want' that usually comes out ahead in any post-nuptial settlement.

As both marketers and parents, our first instinct is to go to the more rational place occupied by 'need' and this can only be a good thing in a world where 'want' is more inclined to the one-night stand than it is to the long-term relationship. But we'll find ourselves jilted fairly sharply if we don't ensure that 'want' is catered for too.

It's not only the parent knows the loneliness of the hollow victory that's achieved when 'need' wins out over 'want'.

Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

There's nothing like a meeting with customers to straighten out your thinking from time to time.

On Friday, I called in to our local primary school to present to the sixth class assembly on brands and how they work. In many ways, it was like trying to teach my grandchild to suck eggs! As a parent of three tweens, I'm quick to moan about how beholden they are to the brands that are flavour of the moment. But the gathering of twelve-year-olds was quick to point out some truths about the influence of brands in general (and not just on tweens and teenagers).

Whilst we adults are inclined to be a little more coy about our preferences and motivations, I was reminded how almost all of us make our choices based on brand. Try weaning a middle-aged golfer off his favourite brand of golf equipment and clothing or a young mother off her choice of push-chair and you'll have a battle on your hands. I reckon much of the arguments in the home of the newly-weds or newly-moved-in-togethers revolve around which brand of ketchup, butter and marmalade make it into the fridge. The same domestic arrangements come under great scrutiny from the parents (whether in or out of law) and the young woman is often judged on her choice of brand of cooking oil or domestic cleaner whilst the young man is quizzed over his preference of car or power-tool. Like it or not, our choice of brand seems to say something to the world about who we are and what we stand for.

In many ways, we adults are in denial. This was brought home to me as I listened to the radio later in the day. TV personality, Lloyd Grossman, was interviewed on the prevalence of celebrity brands in the world of cooking and radio-host Matt Cooper was perplexed at how Grossman, who is not and doesn't claim to be a chef, had developed a very successful range of soups and sauces. The twelve-year-olds would not have shared his confusion.

Matt Cooper seemed to believe that successful brands were built on expertise. They are not. Or at least they rarely are. More and more, successful brands are built on credibility and influence (and the appearance of expertise). It is the same in the school-yard. My tweens challenge me on a whole range of issues when I am in conflict with the 'experts' in their own circle of friends and influencers. They would not be surprised to know that Lloyd Grossman has fashioned a highly-successful range of soups and sauces out of the credibility prompted by his television profile.

It is not only school-children who must be more critical of the opinions that are presented as expertise by brands and those who champion them. None of us likes to be seen as gullible. We are all of us susceptible to the charms of the brand but our vanity and intellectual pride often has us in denial that we fall under that same influence.

Simply The Beast

I've been meaning to include these very simple but eye-catching stencils that Brooklyn Zoo used to promote their attraction.

Animal shapes are so familiar to us from childhood and this creative placing of stencils over various backgrounds - trees, fences, paint-splattered walls - around the city lends them the perfect touch of the exotic. Just like the animals themselves.

What a great way to tap into something so ingrained in our experience and have us look at it in a whole new way.

The Latest Squeeze

I was quite taken aback at the supermarket during the week to see that local soft drink-maker C&C has launched a pure orange juice under its traditional Club Orange brand. Club Orange once enjoyed great kudos here in Ireland as one of the few local brands to beat Coca Cola into second place anywhere in the world. The brand prides itself on using real oranges to make its fizzy drink and makes much of the 'bits' of real fruit that it contains.

For me, it's more than a 'bit' of a stretch for a fizzy drink brand to offer a natural fruit juice - although perhaps no more so than McDonald's addition of salads to the menu or Coca Cola's flogging of natural water (although at least the drinks giant doesn't do so under its flagship label). At the very least, it plays as a clumsy effort to sugar-coat the unpalatable evidence of the effects of soft drinks on health (whether teeth, tummy or artery).

Or maybe it's more of the same addiction to all sorts of spurious spin-offs that afflicts brand-owners in all walks of business? When asked by our clients to bless such tenuous extensions, we brand them a 'bridge too far'.

What do you think? And what's the most unlikely addition to a brand offer that you've seen over the last while?

The Cream Of The Icebox (2)

Both Kevo and Emma raise interesting questions about how and when we use a brand in their comments on my most recent post.

Kevo points to the contrast between the regular Magnum consumer (in elasticated waist pants no less!) and the slim and dusky beauties in the advertisements. There's a similar irony in the beer-bellies that flesh out the replica jersies that have become such popular fashionwear for sports fans here in Ireland (and across the water in the UK). I remember locals in Hong Kong liberally dousing precious cognacs in Coke (much to the horror of the brand-owner).

I guess we don't always have a say in how our customers use our brand (as Burberry learned to its cost).

Meanwhile, Emma wonders whether her preference for an ice-pop reflects poorly on her.

I don’t think so - it probably speaks of a certain innocence (or may just be a matter of taste). I still enjoy Cidona (the local apple-flavoured soft drink) for its connotations of childhood holidays – but I do think Magnum has somehow positioned itself as a ‘serious’ choice.

Perhaps Emma would choose Wibbly Wobbly Wonder when out with girlfriends and a Java Magnum when on a working trip with colleagues?

What do you think? Do you have a portfolio of brands from which you choose depending on the occasion?

The Cream Of The Icebox

How do you switch off when you take a break?

Some years ago, we made the mistake of holidaying in our own country (Ireland) where, apart from the poor weather, I found it difficult to completely switch off thanks to the almost hourly reminders of my working life through newspaper, radio, billboards and overheard conversations. In particular, I found any mentions of brands that I was working on or alongside heavily distracting.

Since then, we've holidayed overseas, typically in France, where the change of language and scenery offers a good, easy-to-access balance between the novel and the everyday. Once we step off the plane in France, I have the impression that I've left all professional responsibility behind me on the tarmac in Dublin. Any thinking that I do around brands over there tends to be of the daydreaming sort.

Snoozing by the pool this summer, I basked in the background sounds of children making their choices at the refreshment booth and marvelled at how comprehensively Magnum towers over the ice-cream market in France and elsewhere. When I recall my own childhood, a time when ice-creams were sold as childish treats and the only adult choice in the refrigerator was choc ice, it seems extraordinary that it took so long for a brand to capture some of the more sensual and grown-up flavours of the treat.

Within my own family, I've seen how Magnum has firmly established itself as a brand of arrival, something you qualify for as you grow up. This summer, my youngest graduated from the ice-pops that had previously been his favourite poison to Double Chocolate Magnum, and I heard the talk of similar rites of passage echoed by other parents and children as they made their way to the kiosk and debated their purchase.

Magnum's more recent advertising for its Java flavour plays explicitly to this sense of ritual, makes for a brand that has truly carved out virgin territory for itself in the forest and leaves behind those of its competitors who wish to stay playing in the sandbox.

Flying The Unfriendly Skies

I'm just back from holiday discourtesy of Ryanair, the low-fares airline. I usually reply to complaints of their legendary poor service with a certain impatience. After all, we can hardly accuse the brand of being misleading. Everything about it screams of where you stand as customer in the pecking order.

So normally, I pay the low fare and take my chances. But I was struck yesterday by the more sinister side of the brand and its cheapskate values. We had paid a little extra to secure priority boarding and smugly made our way to the head of the line. As we stood waiting to climb the gangway at the front of the plane, there was a hurried consultation between cabin crew and groundstaff. The steward then indicated that boarding would be by the gangway at the back of the plane instead and the fairly orderly line broke ranks in an 'every man for himself, to hell with women and children' dash down the tarmac. Once inside the plane, the pushing and shoving continued as we battled to keep families together and secure good seats.

I sat in my seat shaken and not a little ashamed by what had been unleashed in me and my fellow passengers. I looked around and saw a mix of decent people like myself who had been reduced only seconds before to a selfish rabble.

Ryanair would probably argue that they had nothing to do with what happened but I can't help feeling that there's something in the brand that brings out the grasping and the mean-spirited in us all. They lead and, I'm not proud to say, we follow.

As a family, we've resolved not to fly with them again. Whilst their low prices are tempting, and they can certainly be credited with shaking up a complacent industry and opening up a whole range of routes, there's something unhealthy in the pressurised Ryanair that leaves me sick to the stomach.

I'll pay a little extra for the basics in courtesy that I get elsewhere and fly friendlier skies instead.

Love's First Kiss

I met with new colleague John Austin of eBrand for a coffee during the week and we got talking about the importance of that first meeting with a prospective client or supplier. We agreed that too often this first encounter sets the stage for an unequal relationship that doesn't do either partner any good in the longterm.

If the client sits back with arms folded and says, 'Impress me!', the chances are that what follows will take the form of a beauty parade and a relationship in which the one finds it difficult to unfold those arms and the other struggles to come down off the catwalk. In the same way, if the supplier sets out to seduce the client into a relationship, that liaison is always likely to have undertones of insincerity and manipulation.

It always seems to me that the 'first date' in any relationship is hugely important and that the savvy buyer and seller should set out to make it a meeting of equals. The smart buyer in particular should look carefully at the overtures being made by the brand seller and ask, 'Is this the type of relationship I'm after?'. A seller who dangles glittering incentives in front of me is always likely to take me for a dupe whilst one who seeks to lure me from another relationship that works is unlikely to have my best interests at heart.

In the same way, the buyer who flits from one brand to the next according to this introductory offer or that giveaway is not likely to stop with me for long.

So whether we are buyers or sellers, we should ensure that we get to behave on our 'first date' as we'd like to go on and that we set the stage well for the relationship that might follow.

Soldier, Soldier

I've been greatly amused at the very different approaches that our party-leaders are taking to woo us in the lead-up to the General Election here in Ireland.

The one in possession, Bertie Ahern, continues to play the 'man of the people' card that has served him so well in previous contests. His challenger, Enda Kenny, on the other hand, has produced a more business-like contract for government which seeks to highlight the broken promises of his rival and appeal to the growing disillusionment of an electorate in what has largely been seen as a marriage of convenience between the existing government coalition partners.

Enda's very modern pre-nuptial agreement may be showing up Bertie's nod and a wink approach as that of a smooth-talking but ultimately unreliable suitor (if recent opinion polls are anything to go by) and it will be interesting to see whether his clever use of the marriage analogy will deliver success for his brand of politics come voting time.

There Were These Two Guys

Friends and colleagues of mine will know both of my conviction that the great brands build personal relationships and of my own personal affection for the Apple brand. Both conviction and affection are reinforced in Apple's latest series of Online Ads where the personalities of PC (anxious & neurotic) and Apple (low-key and laidback) are neatly contrasted as they discuss a range of functions and operations:

PC: "I get a little nervous when they mess around with my insides."
Mac: "What do you mean? Isn't it just straightforward?"
PC: "Not really. Like a lot of PC's I have to update my graphics card, my memory card...it's major surgery."

Whilst Apple's strategic brand direction has really only paid off for the company in the last few years, the company has always taken a personal, perhaps surprisingly low-tech approach to its advertising and these ads are worth watching for anyone curious as to how they might capture the drama of a brand's relationship with the customer in their own business.

Are You Looking At Me?

A reminder that our attention is fast-becoming the most valuable asset of all comes courtesy of Contagious News that Blyk , the 'pan-European free mobile operator for young people, funded by advertising' has just announced collaborations with some of the world's best-known brands, including Buena Vista, Coca Cola and L'Oreal Paris.

If at first glance, this appears to have nothing to do with smaller brands, particularly those of SMEs, I suggest you look again. Most small businesses have a strong relationship with their customers and an ability to ask for attention thanks to the trust they've built up. I've seen this at work in our own company, Islandbridge, where customers often ask for introductions to our other customers or events.

Perhaps it's time we considered how this attention might translate into opportunities for us and our customers to offer the commodity part of our proposition for free whilst charging (others!) for the privilege of talking to us and the group we have gathered around our brand.

On the other hand, does anyone else share my own misgivings that this simply catapults us into a Minority Report-type world where every visible surface is given over to advertising of one kind or another and every relationship is up for hire?

(Notwithstanding the claims of Antti Öhrling, one of the masterminds behind Blyk that, "The fundamental principle is that advertising never interferes with primary function of the phone. If you do it in the right way, it's not just how much [advertising] can you tolerate—it's something people find useful and fun.")

Good For Goodness Sake

I was at a networking event in Dublin earlier in the week where specialists from The Referral Institute offered tips on how to make more of your network.

The early part of the day was presented by Mike Macedonio, best-selling author of the book Truth or Delusion. One of the networking myths Mike sought to defrock was the traditional 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you' (which he suggested should read more along the lines of 'Do unto others as they would have you do unto them').

I was reminded again of how poorly a christian education prepares us for the world of marketing where the good man often goes unrewarded whilst the charlatan prospers. Don't for a moment think I'm suggesting that we cast off our morals when we don our marketing hats but we are likely to be disappointed if we see virtue being its own reward in the way the old maxims suggest.

Just as Macedonio suggests, the marketplace usually demands much more from us and I think that, whilst we may start with doing things well, we must move beyond plain goodness if we are to succeed commercially.

Let The Games Begin?

I read an interesting piece in Fast Company magazine recently on the Wisdom of Gamers, which suggests that a new type of intelligence or facility is emerging in the generation that plays electronic games as readily as it does street and field games. This confirms what I've seen in my own children and the ease with which they move around virtual worlds in contrast with my own painstaking progress (which has me wondering if I am coming too late to this place and whether this new intelligence is simply beyond me).

Over the last little while, I've heard too that educational planners are looking to draw on the different way that gamers build understanding and acquire skills to add to the more traditional classroom-type learning in our schools.

This raises some important questions for brands. How will the new learners make sense of what we have to offer? What are the building blocks of meaning in this new world?

Whilst I believe that our audiences are unlikely to completely abandon the ways in which they learn about their world for the new game-led intelligence, it's clear that brand story will have to adapt to the new click-and-go thinking that is challenging the more traditional stick-and-ball learning that we did as youngsters.

Hold on to your thinking-caps! We're in for quite a ride.

Watered Down Starbucks?

I've been following the intriguing exchanges between Starbucks' partners and fans following the release through Starbucks Gossip of an internal memo reportedly issued by the brand's founder Howard Schultz.

Schultz argues that many of the decisions he and his colleagues took in order to drive the ferocious growth of the brand have resulted in "the commoditization of the Starbucks experience". This confirms my own rather uncompromising take on how brands work. I don't believe that great brands necessarily make things easier for us as brand-owners. Instead, they insist that we take difficult decisions that support our relationship with our customers.

You could argue that as a brand-owner, Schultz can do what he likes with his brand (although many of his partners seem to disagree) but it's even more refreshing than the finest Mocha Frappuccino to hear him admit that some of those short-term decisions may have hurt the brand over the long haul. Too often, brand-owners hope that, like Dorian Gray, they can make choices that damage the brand and somehow live happily ever after.

Jumping On The Brandwagon

I've just come from watching the rugby on TV and am disappointed with the tenuous link which Ulster Bank are trying to establish with the game through their current series of ads. They're quite funny in their own way - they have various people roaring, celebrating or heaving rugby-style in everyday situations in order to be part of the action - but they say nothing that connects the brand in any way that really matters with a game that's becoming more popular by the week. And that's surely the point of such an association?

You can contrast this with the elegant series of ads from Bulmers / Magners that likens activities in the orchard (the home-ground of the brand) to familiar gestures on the field of play: for example, tamping down the earth at the base of a young sapling in the manner of a place-kicker teeing up for a kick at goal.

What a pity! Tapping into the story being told through one success by linking it with your own story is a powerful way to forge a connection with your customer and this strikes me as a wasted opportunity by the bank.

Dreams & Songs To Sing Or Low Lies?

I read a report in today's paper of a talk being given by a postgraduate, Liam O'Callaghan, which sets out to debunk the various myths that have grown up around the Munster rugby team. For those of you unfamiliar with the story, the Munster team has emerged as one of the best-loved sporting brands in this part of the world.

Apparently, O'Callaghan plans to reveal how, despite the team's reputation as a unique collective representing a distinctive brand of rural, rugged decency, a significant number of the team attended fee-paying, private schools rather than learned their trade under the rather more public and much less privileged shelter of a hedge-school.

Some Munster fans are apparently up in arms at the perceived slight but I think they may be missing the point. Very few brand stories stand up to the scrutiny of the historian but the Munster myth-makers have shown a particularly deft sleight of hand in weaving some loose facts and fictions into the brand we know today. In contrast, their counterparts at my home team of Leinster have struggled to match their own narrative to the demands of producing a successful brand on and off the pitch.

Perhaps the proof of the Munster myth (if any such proof is needed or possible) is to be found in the belief shown by players and supporters alike as they set about their business of making it real where it matters: through the deeds of this new generation of sporting heroes?