On Monday night my partner got back to England from a trip to the US. When he landed at Heathrow, he phoned me from the plane. About 30 minutes later he called again: they were finally about to disembark. The delay? Nobody had been available to connect the air bridge. Welcome to London. I promise not to be too curmudgeonly this morning but do you mind if there’s a small rant about brand values?
An airport is the first – and last – experience that anyone has of a nation. While a hitch with an air bridge might seem too much of a trifle to fuss over, such things are a common part of the experience of using the UK’s main airport. Just on my recent trips, there was the time when the trainee operator couldn’t work out how to connect the air bridge; then there was another when everyone got off the plane, only to be trapped by a locked door at the top of the gangway (10 minutes later a member of staff remembered and swiped their pass to grant us freedom). Last week, while we were waiting to take off for Zürich, the captain announced that the airport’s electricity supply was down, so they were unable to refuel the plane. Luckily, someone fixed the issue – or paid the bill. Heathrow, like all of the UK, is no doubt short of staff since Brexit and coronavirus but such hitches aren’t a good start or end to anyone’s engagement with brand Britain.
On Sunday I went to see a friend who has an apartment opposite a Starbucks in a posh part of London where you would imagine that everyone is precious about appearances. Outside his building there’s a small paved terrace and it has some interesting decorations: Starbucks cups discarded there by the café’s customers. He spoke to the manager some months ago and, for a couple of days, people did come to collect the cups but now this is his task. Starbucks loudly trumpets all of the good that it’s doing in the world but when its staff leave at the end of their shift, they see no shame in their company’s brand being embossed on the neighbourhood’s litter.
Or how about Lime, the shared bike and scooter business? In my neighbourhood, as in much of London, car-parking bays have been turned into places to leave a bike at the end of a ride and there’s usually a heap of various brands’ two-wheelers piled up willy-nilly. But the Lime bikes have become very popular with some youngsters because, apparently, they have a design flaw: with a whack of a hammer they can be unlocked and stolen in seconds. And off they go, the thieves, weaving through traffic, bells ringing. Surely Lime knows that it has become the getaway vehicle of choice for gang kids? I looked up Lime’s list of “core values” and near the top comes “mobility for all”. I wonder if they would mind changing that to “almost all”?
Protecting values is hard work and something that we at Monocle also deal with as a business. In the magazine, we champion the power of being hospitable, the value of craft, being community-minded and engaging in debate; we also try our hardest to ensure that these values – and many more – shape how we engage with people who come in contact with Monocle. No doubt there are still frustrations but I’d like to think that we have built a team that cares about where our logo appears and how visitors are looked after when they make the effort to come to Midori House; and that, if a member of the team saw a Monocle coffee cup tumbling in the breeze down Chiltern Street, they would stop to pick it up.
Over the years I have met many amazing brand gatekeepers who have been swift at taking the tough decisions needed to ensure that their company’s name stood for something. A friend who founded a highly successful menswear company told me how he had once paused at traffic lights next to a bus stop where two men were wearing tops emblazoned with his brand’s – and his actual – name. He looked their way for two seconds and one of them caught his eye and came over to the car, swearing and asking, “What the fuck are you looking at?” As he pulled away from the lights he made the decision to drop this line from his collection.
Brand management can be a demanding and complicated business, one built on precise and considered values. Yet if you don’t get the small things sorted and make everyone feel that taking care of the brand is part of their job description, it doesn’t matter how ambitious your core values are because you will soon be judged – and judged wanting.