Brands-with-a- small -“c"

 

There are a couple of words in the English language that are often suffixed - in speech - with a small “c”. One of these, catholic-with-a-small-“c”, means “universal, all-embracing, broad-minded, tolerant.” The other one is conservative-with-a-small-“c”. And this means - surprise, surprise - “tending to conserve (keep from harm, decay or loss, with a view to later use), averse to sudden changes".

In 2024, both of these words have a pretty bad rap. Blame the capitalised versions, but which brand today would dare to list “catholic” or “conservative” amongst its values?

No, brands today all want to be “progressive” - as an aside, this probably sounds more palatable than “activist” for some of the more conservative stakeholders. Progressive, advancing forward, open to new ideas, innovating all over the place, righting wrongs, acting with purpose, making agile leaps ...

And that’s fine, particularly for brands in tech, mobility, high fashion - and similar categories.

But I do wonder if, in this swarm of bright and buzzy continuous reinvention, a brand that’s unashamedly conservative stands out?

After all, people do look to brands for stability, reassurance and dependability. Particularly in categories like food and drink, banking and insurance - or even babycare and petfood. This comes from a sense of continuity, hanging on to what works, maintaining a consistent distinctiveness.

It’s well-known that the “modern mainstream” are less enamoured by progressiveness than the marketing community. Movement and change is not always in a positive direction.

And isn’t being conservative, by its very nature, more in line with sustainability? Conservation rather than constant updates, upgrades, pivots, redesigns and relaunches?

But doesn’t this all sound rather undynamic and stuck-in-the-mud? Far from it - after all, a conservatory is what allows tender plants to thrive.

And there’s a wonderful quote, often attributed to Gustav Mahler, Benjamin Franklin or Thomas More, but probably from French Socialist leader Jean Jaurès :

Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation (or passing-on) of fire.

RETROWURST: Money February 2006

 

Today I discovered a lost world. That of German banks eighteen years ago. Things have changed and not necessarily for the better. Take a time-trip back to my Extrawurst from February 2006 and discover why Kredit was one of the dirtiest words in the German language. The Germans have plenty of new dirty words these days, mostly stolen from us or our US friends, which is not encouraging. Back then, I wrote about the big banks with their impressive Frankfurt skyscrapers, and their intimidating but competent advisors. The reassuring air of stuffiness and formality, coupled with the persistence of the personal touch, the reluctance to go online and digital with it all.

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The time has come, today, to tackle one of the dirtiest words in the German language. It’s not the word Scheiße or Schweinhund but a rather inoffensive looking and sounding little six letter word: Kredit. Along with looking at the reasons why this is a word so loaded with negative meaning, I’ll have a go at trying to get behind some general German views on all things money and finance.

 

I used to live in Frankfurt where one of the defining features or iconic elements is the skyline, which is dominated by Frankfurt (and Germany’s) leading banks, all vying with each other to see who can build the tallest skyscraper. Since the late 1990s, the Deutsche Bank, Commerzbank and rivals have also been joined by the European Central Bank, the spawning ground (if you like) of the Euro. It is actually quite difficult to get away from money in Frankfurt: on every corner is a bank or at least a Geldautomat and even if you do escape to one of the Olde Worlde Apfelwein pubs in Alt Sachsenhausen, one quick glance skywards will bring you back to the world of money, even if your neighbours at the table aren’t bankers (which would be unusual.).

 

The German banks, particularly the “big boys” such as the Deutsche Bank (www.deutsche-bank.de ), Dresdner Bank (www.dresdner-bank.de ) and Commerzbank (www.commerzbank.de) tend to be, on the surface, somewhat intimidating and less immediately approachable than their UK equivalents. One still gets the feeling, which is reflected in their web presence to some extent, that there will be no chummy banter here and one should really put on a suit when going to the bank, even if it’s just to make a simple money transfer. Although the big banks have moved with the times to some extent, there still seems to be some feeling of stuffiness and formality. However, one can sense a pattern here that is very similar to that of relationships in general in Germany: these tend to develop slowly, step-by-step, until the no-turning-back-friend-for-life stage of “du-sing” is attained. 

 

Although one doesn’t get all the chummy, jokey, for-God’s sake we’re-not-boring-and-we’re gonna-prove-it attitude of UK banks in Germany, we also don’t get the call centres and never speaking to the same person twice that we are beset with in the UK (I know, I still have a UK bank account.) In Germany, everyone has an advisor assigned to them at their own branch, with a direct phone line, regardless of whether you have a couple of thousand Euros or a few billion. These advisors really do get to know you and your preferences when it comes to accessibility of your money, what kind of investments suit you and what your future plans are, which is particularly important in a country where everyone is rapidly having to seek alternatives to the state for health insurance, pensions and the rest.

 

While the big three banks dominate the skyline of Frankfurt, most Germans actually have their account at the local Sparkasse or savings bank (www.sparkasse.de ), Volksbank or Co-op bank (www.volksbank.de ) or the Postbank (www.postbank.de ). While these banks may be a little less intimidating than the big three, they are never-the-less places of seriousness and formality. In fact, when Germans are asked about which qualities or values are important in choosing a bank, trustworthiness, serious and solid reputation and flexible to my personal needs are the top three criteria, with modernity and friendliness seen as “nice to have” but not critical. 

 

Although the banks do seem to have moved with the times, the use of services such as on-line banking is still relatively low in Germany and the idea of physically visiting the bank to make transactions still a very popular one. Even cash dispensers seemed to take longer to catch on here and one feels that there is a huge underlying mistrust of finance and banking conducted by anything other than real people.

 

This brings me on, of course, to that dirty word: Kredit. While things have improved over the last ten years, when I first came to Germany, I was astounded by the unacceptability of plastic generally. To buy a major item, one either had to pay in cash or write out a number of cheques, each of which had a maximum value of DM 400 in those days. Credit cards were scorned and frowned upon almost as much as if one came up with a begging bowl. Again, the distrust seems to stem from a very direct relationship that Germans seem to have about money: carrying large wads of cash around or openly discussing with strangers the cost of your house or car are not seen in any way as vulgar displays but rather as an honest, straightforward approach.

 

Credit cards are still barely accepted today. Visitors to Germany are often surprised and embarrassed that restaurants turn their noses up even at Mastercard and VISA. And the Mastercard and VISA cards here tend to be cards that are paid off within 4-8 weeks, so not real credit cards at all! Mastercard did themselves no favours with the German public by making the World Cup tickets draw only accessible to Mastercard holders. However, a step in the right direction, to win the Germans’ trust in plastic money has been made in the last few years with the introduction of the “ec card”, a form of direct debit card that doubles as a cash card that is issued by most banks. But to think that this has only been in general use for the last 5 years or so is astounding.

 

Part of the disgust for credit cards may well come from the fact that they are seen as coming from profligate and decadent lands, such as the US and UK. Perhaps if one of the big German banks could introduce a very serious, trustworthy and solid credit card (maybe made a bit thicker than “your flexible friend”) that signaled control and financial acumen instead of profligacy when you took it out of your wallet, they could be onto a real money-spinner.

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Things probably started to go sour in that fateful year 2008. The Dresdner Bank was acquired by the Commerzbank in May 2009. 

What do we have now? Blowing up cash machines seems to be a national hobby. Bank branches are disappearing faster than tigers. I’m reduced to asking for cashback at the supermarket more often than not. While Covid speeded up the move to a cashless society, there are plenty of flies in the ointment - local independent shops and restaurants who don’t take cards - and who can blame them?

I’m still hanging on in there with the Commerzbank in the hope that things will get better, but I’ve been let down by them far too often, with the resulting loss of trust. Frying pan and fire come to mind.

Still, things aren’t quite as dire as they are in the UK. But that’s another story. 

Coutts, Farage and the inclusivity paradox

 

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post entitled Your customers choose you. At the time, I believed that it was nigh-well impossible for a brand of any size to pick and choose its customers. Much as they’d like to. Coutts for example, state on their website that “Coutts clients are trailblazers and pioneers, the disrupters and challengers who help to shape the fabric of UK society.”

Dream on, Coutts, I would have thought a few weeks ago. You may have a few photogenic dazzling young movers and shakers, who you’ve displayed prominently on your website. But you’ve also got a heck of a lot of retired brigadiers and boring old conservative farts. And, people like Nigel Farage.

Well, we all know that didn’t end well. But while FMCG brands from bog cleaner to baked beans would have difficulty stopping Mr Farage, Mr Trump or anyone else from buying their product, banks can close accounts. Social media platforms, too. What has been revealed in the case of Farage is that the resaons were nothing to do with insufficient funds in the account, or being a politically-exposed-person. It was a case of Farage’s views and opinions - as catalogued in a multi-page dossier - “not aligning with the bank’s values.”

I’ve done a lot of work on brand (rather than corporate) values, and the challenge was always three-fold. First of all, finding descriptors that could legitimately be described as “values” - generally nouns. Secondly, for the combination - and I’d advise not picking more than four - to be distinctive and fitting to that particular brand. And finally, things that weren’t so vague, intellecually airy-fairy or obscure that no-one had a clue how to put these into practice.

Whether it’s the B-Corp/ESG movement or the interest in Purpose, I don’t know. But values - whether applied to corporate or brand - seem to have become simultaneously samey and vague over the last years. Many companies don’t divulge what they’re for, rather what they’re against - all the usual suspect -isms and -phobias along with hate and toxicity in general.

Is “diversity” a value? I don’t think so, any more than “equity”. These words have taken on very particular meanings in corporate-speak. 

And when it comes to the third member of this particular trio, then Coutts are really tying themselves up in knots. Even putting aside the financial requirements to become a customer, just take a look at the screenshot from their website. Under the section on “Inclusion” comes the text “when you become a client of Coutts, you’ll be part of an exclusive network.”

To me, it all illustrates a lack of that good old-fashioned brand value, integrity.  

Whose money is it anyway?

 

One of the areas where I’m pretty sure my age is showing is my sadness in the decline of bricks and mortar financial and related services. I’ve written about some of my experiences involving my UK bank here and here, and I fear the situation is going to get worse before it gets better.

The pandemic has provided a perfect hatching ground for yet more fraudsters and dodgy schemes intent on getting their grubby mitts on unsuspecting people’s money. I heard recently about an acquaintance who very nearly parted with a huge sum in the direction of fraudsters doing a very good impersonation of the Allianz. 

The sad fact of the matter is that it’s difficult to trust any organisation when you can’t see their offices, or the people working there. The internet is smoke and mirrors in digital.

The situation in Germany is nearly as bad, although I do at least have an advisor/contact person assigned to my account who I’ve met in person, although I suspect that’s a rare privilege as I’m self-employed. Less cheering is the knowledge that, due to Automatic Exchange of Information, UK institutions are passing all sorts of info about me to to the German tax authorities, which would be all well and good if there was some way of finding out which information was being passed over, and a way of checking if this information was correct and relevant - clue: it isn’t always, as I have found out to my cost. 

I know it’s not easy for the banks. The high street branches are a huge cost drain, and they are kind of trapped between security on the one hand and providing good custmer service on the other. But surely this is the kind of challenge that, if you get it right, you’ll really rise above the others and profit?

My experience of banking is that there are more and more hoops for me to jump through now to get anywhere near my own money, yet it’s also increasingly difficult to get to talk to a human being when I really need to - and no, I don’t want to chat on Facebook about financial matters. With the advances in technology, this makes no sense whatsoever.

I’ve got used to the tangle of user names, passwords and memorable information to get me past Go. I am even coming to accept that every second time I want to bank online I’ll have to utter a four digit code at a machine (and that worryingly often, it’s not accepted). But yesterday, I encountered something new. I wanted to move some money from my bank account to the NS&I, where I have Premium Bonds and a couple of other savings bits and pieces.

As I attempted to do this, a grid with about nine little icons flashed up at me.

"Why are you doing this?” demanded the grid.

I was quite taken aback and had a quick look through the options. “Moving my money” seemed to answer the question. Immediately another pop-up in red told me that the bank would never ask me to move money, which was odd as it was nothing to do with the bank, rather my own free will. But choosing this option resulted in not being able to get any further.

I wish I’d done a screen shot of all this as I can’t remember what else there was, but eventually I picked “Savings and investment” which seemed quite safe, but also came with dire warnings about fraud, and had I checked out the company I was investing with, and so on and so forth. I did think briefly about the guy and the Allianz-masquerade, but really. NS&I?

All in all, what should have taken a few seconds took considerably longer and left me irritated and almost as if I’d tried to do something illegal, or ill-advised, or naughty. 

And, strangely, I wasn’t asked to “rate my experience” on this occasion. I wonder why. 

 

Borders, Boxes, Brexit and Bother

 

My recent visit to the UK as Summer fades into Autumn had its rather wonderful moments - heather against blue sky, for example. But there were more than enough moments of general botheration, summed up by this sort of thing:

 I did manage to get petrol for the drive back without getting knifed or the tyres of my German number-plated car slashed. But one incident which can be filed under “customer service - lack of” did rile me somewhat.

To cut a long story short, the phone and broadband in my UK house weren’t working. I rang the service provider from my German mobile phone to try and sort it out. They let me know that they wouldn’t deal with it directly, but would pass it on to Openreach. I wouldn’t be able to contact Openreach directly, but my provider would send me a text to let me know progress, when appointments were confirmed and suchlike.

- Oh, great - here’s my mobile number. It’s a German one. Hope that’s OK?

- No, sorry. We’re not allowed to take international numbers. Have you got another number we can call you on?

- Well, I have, but it’s not working if you remember. Can you make an exception?

- No, we can’t.

- Then how will you contact me?

- You’ll have to phone us.

- Right. You mean I have to call your helpline via my German phone, and possibly hang on for 20 minutes or so before I get a reply, in order to find out progress on repairing a fault with the service you supply?

- Yes. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

I bit my tongue at that point, but I will be writing a letter, for what good it will do.

I can’t help but wonder how many other people there must be in a similar situation with two homes in different countries through circumstance rather than choice. Banks, utility and service providers would do well to recognise these customers’ needs rather than treating them as an irritant to the system.

Globalism used to be the big dream, but it’s now become a dirty word. I do believe there is a place for both: roots/local and global, with all its advantages. It doesn’t necessarily mean Starbucks. HSBC UK have used this theme in their advertising for a few years now. Some of the ads are a touch cliched, but I do like Richard Ayoade as spokeperson for the brand.

The latest ad, about borders, is here   

As the ad industry becomes increasingly obsessed with identity and putting people in boxes, I hope one day the penny will drop that a box has multiple borders.  

Brand Boycott

With Black Friday and its antidote, Buy Nothing Day (which has been going since 1992), I thought I'd have a look at boycotting brands.

Despite the blah-blah about empowered consumers or prosumers or whatever they're called this week, people have been boycotting brands, companies and organisations for as long as Captain Charles Boycott (that's him above) gave his name to this particular form of protest. This was back in the 1880s, Boycott was a land agent and it all happened during the Irish 'Land War.' Captain Boycott was the subject or victim of boycotting, by the way.

Historical examples include the boycotting of Nestle over their unscrupulous marketing of infant formula in the 1970s, and also from that era, the boycotting of Barclays over their South African apartheid connections. No student worth their salt would have been seen dead banking at Barclays in the late 70s and early 80s. I blogged about these 'bad brands' here.

I suppose it is inevitable that someone would compile a helpful list of all the pies that Donald Trump has his fingers in (I hope that metaphor doesn't cause too many distressing images) and here it is: #GrabYourWallet: A Boycott List Of CompaniesThat Do Business With And/Or Back The Trump Family.

The spreadsheet also provides Trump-free alternatives to amazon, Macy's, Bloomingdale's, Zappos and the rest. Full marks to the hashtag in terms of creativity, but none to the spreadsheet. Still, it's the thought that counts.

Boycotting brands is one way of expressing your distaste and making a protest. I read another article this week that shows that brands can also be used to spite your partner when relations aren't tip-top and rosy. I suppose it's similar to turning on your other half's least favourite music at top volume if you want to annoy them.

I'm sure there are a few US couples who agree about everything except politics. And, for every potential boycotter, there's probably a Trump supporter examining that spreadsheet in glee to see how they can further rub the nose of their better half in his victory.

Never forget where you came from

In a very early post on this blog - over seven years ago, gulp! - I bemoaned the change of name from Norwich Union to Aviva. This change was accompanied by some kind of ballyhoo about 'outgrowing our name.' I note, with amusement, that Aviva still sponsors Norwich City Football Club. Maybe they will push the football club to change their name to Aviva FC.

And that's just the point. The global brands that are football clubs, from Real Madrid to Chelsea to Bayern München don't change their names. Even if they only have one player who comes from anywhere near their named city, they don't forget where they came from.

Part of the (good) reason for this is that while we may have global brands, there is no such thing as a global customer. People live in markets.

I've recently noticed a brand undergoing the reverse procedure. This really was a brand that got too big for its boots - the Royal Bank of Scotland, who at some point decided to rebrand as RBS, as the name Royal Bank of Scotland was considered 'too parochial' for a global bank. Well, after years of criticism, crisis and bail-outs, the RBS branding is to be removed from branches in England, Scotland and Wales. The England and Wales branches will operate under the name Williams & Glyn, while the Scottish branches will go back to the original name.

I'm pleased to see that this accompanies a refocus back on UK retail banking after all the high-blown global ideas. The new CMO, David Wheldon, has a great track record, so let's hope he can help to salvage what was once a trusted high street bank.

In the end, maybe the Avivas and RBS's of the world (what memorable brand names!) could learn from some of the giants in branding. Has IKEA ever forgotten its Swedish origins? Has Apple ever pretended it came from some imaginary global place?

I don't think so.