Recently I was asked, what was my favourite writing job?
There were ads of course that were fun to make, strategy that I thought - rightly or wrongly - was bang on, a couple of magazine articles that I’ve been writing on innovation and business, and even some song lyrics.
But my favourite work remains a simple acronym. Three words in total. My first brand voice guide.
Guides are useless if you don’t end up feeling ‘it’. It’s not what you say, but what you convey, in much the same way you can’t demonstrate what comedy is by explaining how jokes work - you just have to make people laugh.
Years ago I helped a media company when things had gone a bit pear shaped, and the receivers were called in. Helping out wasn’t even a question, and when mates are involved you run towards the flames. Or sprint towards the photocopier in this case, which is clearly more truthful albeit less Aaron Sorkin.
This was television though, which was not only dramatic, but a very glamorous and important business. I know this because it said so on the telly. No surprises then, that everyone had been a bit gung-ho at the beginning - all hair oil and no socks, as Tina’s mum Jo would’ve said - and the competition, lying patiently in wait, gave them a bloody good slippering not long after they launched. .
I’ve learnt the hard way about the importance of a good bedside manner when you’re heading into the wind. Also, in a crisis no job is too small. ‘Could I help with an invite going out to agencies for drinks that evening?’ they asked. Could I what. No trouble at all.
To be fair, not the trickiest job.
It wasn’t just drinks of course. It was about what happens next. Quite a lot was riding on the outcome - and the story they told - and critical to the network’s future was the support of the advertising industry. The industry needed reassurance quickly, and the best way to do that at the time was over a few drinks.
The invite looked suitably invitey, and besides this wasn’t the time to go reinventing any wheels. But still, it did need something. Nothing too obvious, but a signal nonetheless.
‘B.Y.O.’
It’s hard to ask for help. It’s humbling. Nuance is everything and the lightest of touch is required. Of course on this particular night alcohol didn’t hurt either. Agencies being agencies over-catered and arrived with cases of champagne, others with Lion Red. Many with both.
The call went out and it was answered swiftly. By getting into the swing of it agencies showed support. Best of all they were given a simple, immediate way they could visibly demonstrate that support. Their help to steady the foundering ship would come later and take much longer.
Nothing like a good bit of merch, to immortalise the moment, and bring a call to arms to life. The tee shirt machine kicked into life and the merch tent was fully stocked. Another subtle way to show that any money was good money.
Like pirates, the network came out fighting, and very quickly settled into becoming the underdog, a role they played elegantly to their advantage for many years. We love underdogs, almost as much as we adore a comeback.
B.Y.O. Bring your own.
A tone of voice guide? Well underdogs do speak different. They have to. Strategic thought? Yes, but let’s not forget no drinks budget. Need before ambition.
The little bit of housekeeping added to the bottom of the page may very well have had no impact at all. Hard to say. Attribution is complicated. But you always need an ignition switch.
Words are important, how you say them is arguably more so. Feelings are everything. They’re indelible, they’re what sticks.
That’s why nuance matters most. Down in the detail is where the Devil hides in wait. Tread carefully, he’ll ankle tap you without a second thought.