Tribal Lovefare

Shortly after St. Patrick's Day, economist David McWilliams posted on the opportunities available to us through the extensive Irish diaspora: Going Tribal Will Save Us From Economic Oblivion. According to McWilliams, the challenge for the Irish State is reinvent the relationship between Ireland and the Irish diaspora.

I was reminded again of the power of the tribe and the connection to the homeplace last Saturday, when I went along to see the Erris Player's excellent production of Synge's Playboy of the Western World in Dublin's Liberty Hall. It seemed that the whole of Mayo was there and the first appearance of each actor on stage was greeted by a delighted murmur of recognition and, presumably when a more notorious local character arrived, by a smattering of applause.

Many years ago, I used to see similar connections maintained in Hong Kong at Chinese New Year when families returned to the Mainland to visit relatives in the home place or when they gathered for the sweeping of graves in April.

Some time later, I was able to make great inroads into the ad agency world in both New York and Chicago as I piggybacked on introductions from Irish-Americans and often found myself no more than two degrees separated from someone I wanted to meet (this was in the days before LinkedIn and the various social media sites).

David McWilliams has a point when he suggests that "the next chapter of the Irish story will involve harnessing Irishness and turning our worldwide family into the greatest commercial network the world has ever seen." Last month, with my colleagues at the Smile Conference, we launched a Facebook Failte campaign, to encourage Irish people all over the world to send a personal invitation to a friend or colleague to visit Ireland during 2009. The campaign has started slowly but is beginning to build momentum. (As we're on the subject, why not drop along and issue your own Cead Mile Failte?).

McWilliams is also right when he suggests that the Irish, like the Jews (and, in my experience too, the Chinese) enjoy a natural advantage in terms of the spread of our diasporas.

But wherever you're from, ask yourself what you can do to link in your brand to the tribe that connects you and millions of others to your homeplace.

Another Problem To Solve For Mr. Dyson

We've just bought our first Dyson and it's a beauty. No doubt about it. Looks the business and runs like a dream.

Naturally, I was keen to see how Mr. Dyson talks the walk and his little booklet 'The Story of Dyson', which accompanied our new toy (sorry, serious cleaning machine), didn't disappoint.

I learned how the man who 'likes to make things better' started out designing a barrow, the Ballbarrow (which goes where "no wheelbarrow has ever gone before") before going on to design the world's first bagless vacuum cleaner. I also read in the section 'Another Problem To Solve' how it took three on-board computers, 50 sensory devices and 60,000 hours of research to create efficient, methodical robot cleaning. Another section told me that "the people at Dyson who design products are called 'engineers' (because) to Dyson, 'design' means how something works, not how it looks."

So far, so very impressive.

Then, following the instructions on the packaging, I went online to register my purchase.

Now, the people at Dyson who design the website can't be engineers because the site neither looks well nor works well. In fact, I'm not sure it works at all. I was taken brusquely through a sequence of web-pages (many of which were subtle variations on the last) before arriving at a page where I could enter my details. I filled out the form and pressed 'Submit' - and then nothing. No onscreen confirmation. No email thanking me for registering. Nothing.

Unsure whether I'd registered successfully or not, I called the local number instead and spoke with a very helpful woman who completed my registration and then advised me that my proof of purchase was all that was required to qualify me for service and certain parts under my warranty.

What a pity that Mr. Dyson's carefully designed brand experience didn't extend to my visit online. I don't expect his engineers to spend 60,000 hours (or even a fraction of that) crafting an online registration process but this simple exchange, made convoluted and frustrating, briefly soured my infatuation with our new beauty.

Over to you, Mr. Dyson.

You At The Back, Wipe That Smile Off Your Face

A Garda source reportedly says: "This may have started as a prank, but it's now a national embarrassment. A full investigation is under way."

I agree wholeheartedly. The sooner we get to the bottom of the national scandals that are embarrassing us on the world stage, the better.

But I don't think it's the stunt that saw nude portraits of our leading politician briefly displayed in the National Gallery and the Royal Hibernian Academy that is turning Mr. Cowen's cheeks an unseemly shade of red. Surely it's the shenanigans in our banks that are the "last thing the country needs" (to misappropriate a remark made by a Cabinet Minister in response to the foolishness of naked emperors hanging in high places)?

Now don't get me wrong. I'm sure it's a source of considerable embarrassment to Mr. Cowen to see himself portrayed in this way, but don't school-teachers suffer the same ignominy at the hands of their students every day of the week (even if those wicked sketches don't usually find their way to the walls of the National Gallery)?

Stories of the Gardai raiding the offices of a radio station in order to finger the culprit smack of over-reaction. We're told that the hanging up of nude images could be deemed illegal under incitement to hatred, indecency and criminal damage legislation. I'm certain that humiliated teachers scramble to find grounds to bring the full force of the school system to bear on the infuriating pest in Class 1B who has a knack for cruel caricature but grasping at the straws of incitement to hatred, indecency and criminal damage in order to involve the Gardai is probably going a little too far.

How ironic that it's a school-teacher who's owned up to painting the pictures.

Ireland's international reputation would be better served by a mature response from Mr. Cowen's friends in high places, perhaps even the lofty dismissal of the pictures as a school-boyish prank beneath the notice of a serious politician intent on rooting out the rather more compromising wrong-doings of sticky-fingered leaders in our financial system.

Over to you: Do you think that rude pictures or unscrupulous bosses are the greater source of embarrassment for Brand Ireland?

Amateur Dramatics

'Konica Milolta brings dramatic decline to advertising output...'

Spotted this truly awful advert in the underworld of Terminal 1 in London Heathrow. It features Ronaldinho, widely regarded for the sheer brilliance of his printing and photocopying.

You simply can't keep him out of the office.

Quite incredibly, the text reads:
'Ronaldinho brings dramatic improvement to football.
Konica Milota brings dramatic improvement to colour output'

Who on earth dreams up this stuff?

It's dramatic, but almost certainly not in the way that the writer had intended...

Boys And Girls, Do You Believe In Brands?

"(Tinkerbell's) voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said. Then he made it out. She was saying that she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies.

Peter flung out his arms. There were no children there, and it was night time; but he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland, and who were therefore nearer to him than you think: boys and girls in their nighties, and naked papooses in their baskets hung from trees.

"Do you believe?" he cried.

Tink sat up in bed almost briskly to listen to her fate.

She fancied she heard answers in the affirmative, and then again she wasn't sure.

"What do you think?" she asked Peter.

"If you believe," he shouted to them, "clap your hands; don't let Tink die."

Many clapped.

Some didn't.

A few beasts hissed.

The clapping stopped suddenly; as if countless mothers had rushed to their nurseries to see what on earth was happening; but already Tink was saved. First her voice grew strong, then she popped out of bed, then she was flashing through the room more merry and impudent than ever. She never thought of thanking those who believed, but she would have like to get at the ones who had hissed.

"And now to rescue Wendy!"

So boys and girls, do you believe in brands?

It's too easy to let the actions of a few Captain Hooks, and the hissing beasts who collaborated in their wrong-doing, poison our confidence in the good faith of brands in general.

Of course, we're outraged at the millions these crooks spent on the pretence of branding, purporting to act in the best interests of their customers whilst feathering their own nests at our expense.

But let's not allow the behaviour of a small number of celebrity brands damage the good name of those countless others who put us first, many of them small business owners passionately committed to doing their best day in and day out for us.

This is not Neverland, but we are well served by shop-keepers, tradesmen, artisans, white collar professionals and many other suppliers who will put the customer first, go the extra mile and watch our back.

Now is the time to rally round those brands that work sincerely to look after their customers.

If you believe, clap your hands (then reach into your pocket, pick up the phone or do whatever it is you must do to support them); whatever it takes, don't let your favourite brands die.

(You can also check out John Jansch's Make A Referral for a practical way to show your faith in your local market).

And now to rescue the economy!