Bloomin’ Lemons

 

In my last post, I referred to a talk by Orlando Wood, which sent me down an Orlando-shaped rabbit hole in search of more of his wise and wonderful thinking. He has published two books, Lemon and Look Out, which sound well worth reading. And as a preview, there’s a 20 minute film, produced in June 2020, those heady days when we thought the pestilence was as good as all over ...

I don’t think a marketing-related film has ever made me feel homesick before, but I’m afraid this one did, with halcyon scenes of the Thames in all its midsummer glory. Where the Lemons Bloom starts with an anecdote about Goethe, and how working as an administrator for the Court of Weimar stifled his creativity, so much so that he took off and fled to Italy in the middle of the night.

This reflects Orlando’s premise: that advertising has become less effective over the last fifteen years or so, due to a shift to the left-brain mode. Flatter, more abstraction, less holistic, less employment of metaphor and humour. No doubt a consequence of the obsession with being “data-driven”.

And it’s not just marketing communications. Culturally, the effect is only too apparent - intense focus on particular words, often taken out of context. Obsessions with categorisation and labelling people. A widespread sense of humour failure and lack of appreciation of nuance. 

Is human intelligence becoming more artificial, I wonder?

Parable

 

I am not normally a fan of “social experiment” ads. There was a nasty spate of them a few years ago - either manipulative codswallop by beauty brands for “poor me” narcissists. Or po-faced offerings from previously jolly beer brands jumping on the latest Twitter trend. Patronising, preachy and pretentious stuff, instead of being informative, entertaining or useful.

However, when we’re talking life or death rather than cans of cheap lager or mostly-water body lotions, maybe such ideas can make a point. 

“First Aid for Humanity” is an ad by VMLY&R Poland for the Polish Red Cross, supported by BNP Paribas. The idea was a first aid training course that used dummies that not only looked like real people, but were modelled based on real people who have faced discrimination. These were a homeless man, a Muslim woman refugee and a genderqueer activist. The participants in the course were encouraged to set any prejudices they may have had aside. At the end, they met the people behind the dummies in real life to hear their stories.

Have a look here.

I listened to a talk by Orlando Wood the other day, and he mentioned that advertising that gets noticed employs metaphor, connections and relationships and is in some ways like a parable - it’s not telling you what to think, but leaving you to process it and work that out for yourself.

And of course, “First Aid for Humanity” is a 21st-century retelling of one of the greatest parables of all time - The Good Samaritan (see Luke 10: 25 - 37), about the man who “fell among thieves” and was ignored and left for dead by both a priest and an assistant priest of his own religion before he was rescued and cared-for by a man of a different and opposing religion. 

“First Aid for Humanity” is an effective piece of communication, but I did wonder if it could be have been even more effective if the dummies had gone beyond the “acceptable” victims of discrimination. 

What if your neighbour is a skinhead football hooligan with a few dubious tattoos?  

RETROWURST: Alcopops April 2004

 Eighteen years ago in Germany, you couldn’t switch on the radio or TV without hearing Alcopops and Komasaufen discussed in hysterical, frenzied terms. This would be the ruin of an entire generation! Remember, this was back in the pre-smart phone and social media days, not to mention a certain pandemic, when young people went clubbing and dancing and raving and generally having a wild and crazy time. Retrowurst this month is from April 2004 and chronicles the market at that time.

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There’s a bit of a Sturm brewing in a cocktail glass here in Germany at the moment with lots of talk in high places of dangerous drugs and teenage addiction. It’s probably a bit of a yawn to you in the UK, but the subject is ‘Alcopops’. While the UK and other European countries went through this in the 90s, the subject is only just becoming a matter of hot debate here. The question that is being mooted in the government is whether or not a Strafsteuer (penalty tax) should be applied to Alcopops. The consequence of this would be to double the price and (hope the government) collapse the market, which is exactly what happened in France in 1997. The reasoning behind this is that Alcopops are seen as a dangerous, seemingly innocuous but potent introduction to the slippery slope of alcohol addiction for young people. In an internet survey conducted via www.tageschau.de (one of the main news magazine programmes), 60.3% of the respondents agreed that Alcopops should be subject to a higher tax level.

 

I thought it might be interesting to trace the history of Alcopops’ development here in Germany and to take a look at the range of products currently available (maybe before they disappear for ever!). I think that one of the reasons that Alcopops took rather longer to take off in Germany is that there was never the same tradition of mixed drinks in this heavily beer/wine/schnapps dominated market. While the UK was in a Happy Hour frenzy of cocktails in the 80s, the German fad for ‘long drinks’ in clubs and discos and at Fests was rather more modest. Instead of the exotic concoctions served up in Rumours and the like in London, German ‘long drinks’ were restricted to Asbach Cola (German brandy), Bacardi Kirsch (Bacardi with Cherry) and Wodka Orange. 

 

However, two very interesting developments took place on the back of this, in the late 80s and early 90s. The first of these was Red Bull and its push as a mixer, typically with Vodka. Red Bull Vodka could be said to be the first German Alcopop, with its lurid colour and taste of melted Gummibärchen. The second development is even more interesting and does not show signs of slowing – and this was the development of individual sweet Schnapps bottles.

 

Small (0.02l) bottles of traditional Schnapps, such as Obstler or Korn had long been available, often worryingly (to UK eyes) placed with the sweets at the checkout of the supermarket or (even more worryingly) petrol station – a sort of impulse purchase, one assumes. However, in the late 80s, a trend started at Fests and parties for the social consumption of these little bottles, often accompanied by strange rituals, such as unison banging of the bottles on the beer table before opening, putting the cap on the end of your nose or making a spectacular domino display from the empty bottles. The new Schnapps leading this trend were sweeter in taste and slightly (but only slightly) less alcoholic (around 20% proof) than traditional Schnapps. The brands who led this trend with quirky advertising and very visible marketing campaigns were Kümmerling, Jägermeister and Kleine Feige. Other notable brands are Kober’s Pfläumchen and Berentzen Minis. The latter brand comes in a variety of flavours such as Sour Apple, Plum, Wild Cherry and Apple and are packed just like sweets in a plastic bag of ten little bottles for €4.99. Pfläumchen is packed in boxes of 25x 0.02l which sells at €8.99.

 

These little bottles of Schnapps were the forerunners to Alcopops, which really only arrived on the scene about 3 years ago. The big boys in the market, who seem to set most of the rules, are Bacardi Breezer (4x 0.275l for €6.29; available in full range of strange flavours) and Smirnoff Ice (6x 0.275l for €7.99). Bacardi Rigo (lime mix) is also available at €1.59 for a 0.35l bottle. These are, of course, off prices. Other players include Puschkin Vibe, 5.6% proof at €1.49 for 0.275l. This is a vodka mix and available in flavours called ‘Green’, ‘Black’ and ‘Red’. Caipi is a Cachaca mixed drink with lime and soda and is also €1.49 per bottle. Caipi is 5.4%, produced in the UK and imported by Borco-Marken Import, Hamburg. Another interesting product, which describes itself as a ‘wine cocktail’, with Lemon-Lime and Lemon-Ginger variants, is Viala Carma. This is also 5.4% proof and costs €1.49 for 0.275l.

 

The small, sweet Schnapps brands also offer Alcopops; for example, ‘Feigling Eyes’, a vodka mix drink from Kleine Feigling. This is 5% proof and only €0.99 a bottle. There is a website under www.feigling-eyes.com

 

Aldi are also never slow to recognise a profitable idea when they see one and offer a range of Alcopops at very reasonable prices. Interestingly, most of these are produced in the UK. There’s Czerwi Fresh, which is Vodka and Lemon, 5.6% proof, 6x0.275l for €4.99 and Czerwi Sunseeker, a vodka mix in more exotic flavours such as Blue Orange, Red Berry and Mango. This sells at only €0.75 for a 0.275l bottle. Aldi also have a rum variant, ‘Old Hopking Whitey’ which is 5.4% proof and sells at €4.59 for 6x0.275l.

 

There’s a whole website dedicated to these drinks if you are interested, under www.szene-drinks.com

 

Whether the government legislation will go through or not remains to be seen but, despite all the talk, the problem of drunken teenagers doesn’t seem quite so visible here as in other countries, such as the UK or certain Scandinavian countries. It may be simply because alcohol is not so ‘prohibited’ at the moment, being available for next-to-nothing at every local Fest or fair, and all hours of the day and night at petrol stations, that there isn’t so much ‘bravado’ attached to drinking by young people here – it’s simply part of life.

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The bubble burst not long after - on 1st July 2004, the Sondersteuer on Alcopops was introduced, putting around an extra €1 on each bottle, and naturally, sales went down as the government’s coffers were filled. I tend to think that Alcopops were never destined to make it quite so big in Germany, as you’re allowed to drink beer and wine here at 16 anyway, and the age limit for Alcopops is 18.

On top of that, Germany, like many other European markets, has seen a decline in alcohol consumption amongst the young. There are many factors at play here, some of which are highlighted in this report from 2018.  

Mixed drink marketing has concentrated more on the slightly older, more sophisticated drinker, with the Aperol revival and both gin and rum taking Germany by storm.

But that’s the official, commercial side. I do notice that those strange little sweet Schnapps bottles still seem to be widely available - and at remarkable prices that wouldn’t have been out of place in 2004: €8.49 for a 25 x 0.2l pack of Pfläumchen. 

And walk into any local yokel Fest and you’ll likely see buckets and watering-cans of Jacky-Cola and various Jägermeister mixes being swilled back as if it’s 2004. Only the age of the drinkers has changed: Alcopops are now officially nostalgia.

Talkin’ ‘bout my generativity

 

Towards the end of the last millennium, at a time when today’s mighty oaks were saplings and I was navigating the first stage of adulthood amid a neon excess of cocktails and heartache, I read The Man who planted trees by Jean Giono. This short story - may the correct term is parable - had been originally published in 1954 and enjoyed a renaissance in the 1980s. The tale starts in 1913, when the young narrator meets a 55-year-old shepherd, Elzéard Bouffier, who has taken it on himself to plant acorns in the Provence countryside over the last three years. 

Even if you haven’t read it, you can probably see where the story is going, and it does, most charmingly, accompanied by beautiful woodcuts. Two World Wars cannot destroy the consequence of one man’s simple act, regenerating a whole community and landscape.

Elzéard Bouffier and his story is the perfect example of generativity, a concept I’ve touched on here and here. Generativity - a concern for establishing and guiding the next generation - is the main focus of the 7th Stage of Life in the psychoanalyst Erik Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development. Interestingly, Erikson extended his stages from the Shakespearean “7 Ages of Man” in that he envisaged eight in total. Maybe this has something to do with increasing life expectancy - more of that later.

The 7th Stage of Life, or second stage of adulthood, typically occurs at what we’d call middle age - 40-64 approximately. Interestingly, once Erikson passed this age (he lived to 91) he reviewed his theory and admitted that generativity continues to play a major role beyond retirement age, too. Even more interestingly, his wife and collaborator Joan later added a 9th Stage of Life to the theory. She was 93 at the time.

Generativity, in its human/social meaning, has a lot of nuances as an idea. There’s a strong sense of altruism, but the “self” is not absent from the concept. It encompasses an inner desire for immortality in the form of leaving something of value as a legacy, making one’s life count for something. And there’s a strong component of responsibility to others, both now and in the future.

The language of generativity has been much used in sustainability communications. “For future generations” has become a cliche, usually accompanied by stock photos of carefree cute children running through sun-kissed meadows or fields of wheat. But maybe there’s an opportunity for companies and brands to use the generativity of their (ageing) co-workers to positive effect beyond tired sustainability tropes. 

The idea of “purpose” has been criticised due to its association with short-term activism and “cause of the moment”. It should be less about “high(er) and mighty” and more about the long-term. Passing on values, skills and knowledge. Mentoring within the company. Keeping the culture alive. Creating something new taking into account both what the brand and company does well and new human needs arising from our changing world.

The opposite pole to generativity is stagnation - and that’s not healthy for brands or people. 

Reinventing the past

 

My dad used to annoy me something rotten when we were watching something like Colditz or The Great Escape by pointing out inaccuracies in anything from the pilots not wearing masks through to how many stripes a colonel should or shouldn’t have on their uniform.

Now that I’ve reached a certain age, I find myself doing exactly the same when it comes to advertising. When some bright spark starts talking about how such and such a campaign has revolutionalised, disrupted or utterly transformed the category’s communication, it’s usually to be taken with a pinch of salt.

Yes, I know - people want simple stories of from:to, of heroes turning things on their heads, of creatives taking humungous leaps. Short attention span and all that. The vogue for storytelling has a lot to answer for.

Still, it’s sometimes worth putting the record straight.

Recently, in Campaign, I read an article from a chief strategy officer from a major international agency praising Persil’s Dirt is Good campaign. Now, I also admire this campaign, despite its occasional forays into false directions. The campaign has been running for 17 years, which is pretty good going. The chief strategy officer makes plenty of good points about the campaign, yet dismisses all pre-2005 detergent advertising with a sweeping generalisation:

"Historically, the casting and scenarios for washing powder ads were dreadfully homogenous, typically oppressive portrayals of perfect Stepford mums beaming at a neat stack of clean clothing.”

I wonder if he ever saw this Ariel ad from 1997 as a lad? Can you spot any of these:

    - Mum’s perfect kitchen?

    - perfectly folded piles of clothing?

    - oppression?

    - Stepford mums?

No, me neither. All I can see is a brilliant piece of communication, based on a universal human truth: the younger generation think they invented the world.

Sigh.

RETROWURST: Tea March 2005

 

In marketing as well as my life here in Germany, I sometimes find the things that don’t change more thought-provoking than those that do. In this month’s Retrowurst, I’ve rummaged in the antique tea caddy and found an article on that very subject - tea - written back in March 2005. 

It could have been written yesterday, or at least, the day before yesterday.

So sit down, make yourself a cuppa, and read on:

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It’s tea-time! 

 

Tea may not be one of the things that one immediately associates with Germany; sausages, beer and bad footballer haircuts come more readily to mind to most people. However, anyone who has spent any length of time in a German supermarket will probably confirm that the tea fixture is one of the brightest and most bizarre of the entire store. British ex-pats who venture out in their first week of living here to buy some provisions are regularly overwhelmed by the array that confronts them and often need a strong cup of one of the many brews on offer to recover from the shock.

 

Anyone looking for Tetley, PG Tips or anything remotely familiar on the tea fixture is likely to be out of luck. You may find Twinings (with varieties such as English Breakfast, Earl Grey or Ceylon Orange Pekoe) tucked away in a separate exotic food and drink section, nestling uncomfortably between Paul Newman’s Salad Dressing and Green Tabasco but the tea fixture itself will only offer the false security a couple of obscure sub-brands with vaguely British-sounding names, such as “Sir Winston”. The majority of the fixture is likely to be made up of brand names and tea varieties that most of us would never have let out of the first, wildest phase of brainstorming.

 

Even ten years ago the tea fixture offered a startling variety with many ‘traditional’ herb and fruit-based variants in addition to Schwarztee, or black tea. In the last two or three years, however, the NPD departments of the tea brands seem to have gone onto overdrive (or have been on some rather strange tea themselves) as the number of lines offered seems to have almost doubled! Interestingly, many of the new varieties are reflections of trends seen in other markets so maybe we can use the tea fixture here as a sort of trend barometer into what’s the average German’s cup of tea, figuratively speaking, at the moment!

 

Tea is not just drunk at teatime in Germany or, rather, any time of the day or night seems to be teatime. Tea is very much a beverage in its own right rather than an accompaniment to food, be it breakfast or a few biscuits. Tea is normally drunk without milk but maybe with the addition of lemon, sugar or honey.

 

The little German starts on tea very early on in life. In fact, there are special teas for nursing mothers to encourage the milk flow. These are called Stilltees and consist of a whole dried herb garden including aniseed, fennel, caraway, melissa and basil. It’s probably no wonder that many new mothers prefer the alternative traditional method to encourage the milk; namely, a little bottle of Sekt in the evening! The teas for babies and young children come from the baby food manufacturers such as Hipp and Alete and include Baby’s erste Tee- Baby’s First Tea, a fennel tea to be given from the first week onwards. Other variants include Apple & Melissa (4 months +), Peach tea (8 months +) and Fruit Tea (8 months +). Special bottles and teats are also available for these teas, which are thought to help with everything from colic to hyper-activity.

 

As well as helping new mothers and babies with little health problems, there really is a tea for all ills in Germany. Many minor complaints are treated as a first step with tea, which can be bought from the Apotheke or even from the Supermarket. One well-known Supermarket brand, Bad Heilbrunner, offers a range of teas for colds, stomach and intestinal problems, kidney and bladder complaints, sleep and nerve problems, coughs and bronchial conditions and even something called Blutreinigungs Tee- literally, blood-cleansing tea, which promises to be entwässernd und entschlakend (diuretic and purifying). If the brand name isn’t enough to put you off, the taste of these teas is generally so unpleasant that the minor ailment normally conveniently clears itself up in no time to prevent further ingestion of these potions.

 

Aside from this medicinal niche, there is a vast range of interesting and drinkable teas in Germany. The basis of the market is black tea and then herbal and fruit teas. The basic herbal teas include peppermint, chamomile and nettle, while fruit teas include rosehip, forest fruits and citrus combinations. Green tea is also popular in Germany and the well-known brands often offer “English” varieties such as Earl Grey under British-sounding sub-brand names such as Sir Winston.

 

Of the innovations mentioned earlier, most of these play with weird and wonderful new flavour combinations rather than the UK obsession with tinkering with the shape of the teabag and packaging. Three of the more interesting directions that I’ve spotted recently are as follows:

 

The eastern Wellness kick

Germany is still obsessed with Wellness with just about everything from socks to bed sheets commanding a few Euros more if it has the “Wellness” description slapped on it. Examples of this direction in the tea market include Meßmer’s Quelle (Source) range; Quelle der Erholung (rest/recovery), claiming to be ausgleichend und wöhltuend (balancing and well-doing) with chamomile and linden petal, Quelle der Erfrischung (refreshment), said to be belebend und erfrischend (invigorating and refreshing) with Lemon Grass and Honey bush. Teekanne have a couple of ranges in this direction: Harmonie für Körper und Seele (Harmony for Body and Soul), with varieties Träume Schön (Sweet Dreams, relaxing), Hol dir Kraft (Give you strength, invigorating) and Einfach Schön (Simply nice, purifying) and another range with more of an Eastern positioning, Zeit für Wellness (Time for Wellness), including Honeybush & Hibiscus, Peppermint & Lemongrass and Orange Lapacho tea.

 

Around the World in 80 Teas

Meßmer in particular seem to be on a bit of an Atlas of the Tea World exploration at the moment with a large range of teas from around the world, including Masir tea, with mint and honey, described as “fresh and sweet” and Ovambo tea, with red bush and vanilla, described as “sweet and mild”. More varieties can be found on the website www.messmer.deor in any German supermarket.

  

Sex and the Citea

This is one of the more amusing new trends and one that all the brands have leapt on. Rather than using characters from Sex and the City (rather inappropriately) in the TV advertising as in the UK, German tea brands are trying to bring romance and passion into the product itself. Messmer have a “Moments” range including Moment der Liebe (with Cherry and Rose petals, said to be full-mouthed and fruity) and Moment des Glücks (with banana and clover blossom, described as sweet and fruity). Milford have a range including Süße Affäire, Süße Verführung and Süße Romanze (Sweet Affair, Sweet Seduction and Sweet Romance) while Teekanne really get steamy over the kettle with Pure Lust (Strawberry and Rhubarb-Cream), Sweet Kiss (Cherry and Strawberry) and Heiße Liebe (Hot Love, with Raspberry and Vanilla). More details about the Teekanne range can be found on www.teekanne.de – but you’ll probably have to take a cold shower afterwards!

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A revisit of all those tea websites has shown that the tea merchants are still playing the same (presumably successful) games, seventeen years later. Yes, there have been a few new market entrants, of the Yogi Tee ilk, their business further accelerated by the pandemic, by the self-care obsession and the cosiness trend, no doubt. 

Maybe the most interesting development is our own rather charming tea merchant in downtown Bruchköbel. This emporium is going from strength to strength it seems, despite lockdown. A quick glimpse at the website will tell you all you need to know when it comes to why: authenticity, storytelling, digital and physical channels well-used to their best advantage, great choice and a pretty unique offer. 

But ... PG Tips is still almost impossible to find outside the internet. We did have an “international food store” here until a couple of weeks ago, but sadly it has had to close. Some teas simply remain elusive.

Slave to the algorithm

 

I was a latecomer to Wordle, and snuck in just before the puzzle was taken on by The New York Times. It has kept me amused for a couple of weeks, even if I’ve been kicking myself for breaking my winning streak due to US English spelling (not-twigging-of) a little while ago.

Yesterday, though, I was completely bemused. I put in a five letter word, nothing obscure, and was told that this word was not on Wordle’s list. 

The word in question: “slave.” I genuinely wondered if this was a hiccough in the software, so tried on another device. Same result. Intrigued, I searched for an explanation and found news articles to the effect that there are various words that the new owners of Wordle don’t allow - the word for a female dog, for example, or “words associated with racism” such as “slave”. 

There were, no doubt, words for the idea of “slave” long before the English language evolved. When I think of the word, yes, the Atlantic slave trade comes to mind, but I also have associations with earlier history, Roman times, and the present day - I’ve often been asked to sign documents assuring potential project partners that my little one-woman show does not involve slavery in any part of the value chain.

Then there are the more abstract uses of the word - as in that glorious 1980s anthem by Grace Jones. Metaphorical uses, figures of speech, analogies, word-plays. It’s a word with many uses, meanings, nuanaces, contexts.

I’m a writer, and I’ve commented before about the homogenisation of language, as well as the cultural poverty (am I allowed to say poverty?) society is walking into with predictive text and suggested words and phrases. It’s bad enough when suggestions come as to which words you might like to use, but when words themselves disappear from lists and dictionaries? I know language changes all the time, but I am not talking about weird obscure historical words that have had no application for the last five hundred years here.

It’s just a game. OK, it is. But if it’s a game where I have to question every five-letter word and wonder whether it could offend someone, effectively censoring my own vocabularly, then I think I’d rather go back to the Internot and find my ancient Scrabble board game where I can use whatever words I see fit.