SwelledHead.com

Anglophile

Last week’s post ended with a note about the apparent incidence of British brands in the US, and vice-versa. Any transatlantic traveller with experience of both countries will be able to tell you that the balance isn’t in the UK’s favour. Observing this set SwelledHead thinking about why this should be and, more importantly, what can be done about it.

Transatlantic brands

You might well say that it’s only to be expected that the US will have more international brands than the UK; the population is greater by 235 million after all. Fair point, but in a nation as subliminally anglophile as the US (and it’s my American colleagues that say this is so) one might expect UK brands to gain a higher profile than those of other foreign nations. My unscientific evidence is that they don’t.

Why is this the case? Well consider the size of the US market - it's enormous, not just in terms of population but also in spending power. The scope for growth within the US means that by the time it becomes necessary to look beyond, the business is likely to be large and well-resourced. That lowers the hurdles for trying things out in another country. Take the recent opening of Brooks Brothers in London. If for some reason things don’t work out, the $1.4 billion parent company (Retail Brand Alliance) can stand the loss of a few million.

For European companies entering foreign markets, the hurdles are set much higher. Home markets are smaller, so although the need to expand overseas comes sooner, the company has fewer resources available to accomplish this. The loss of a few million will be felt much more keenly, perhaps so much so that it’s not worth the risk. Get it wrong and it could damage the whole business.

Friends at the New York office of UK Trade & Investment, the British Government’s agency to promote international commerce, confirmed that the picture painted here is generally the case. So, what can SwelledHead do about it?

Anglophile

Imagine a showcase store featuring six to eight brands of distinctive British goods. It could be all manner of items, such as clothing, shoes and accessories, fine or speciality foods, technology, or toys and games. The brands would each have a share of the floor and wall space in the store and assistance would be provided by well-trained staff that work across all the brands, though individual brands could install a specialist if they wished.

Sited in a busy, upscale shopping location, Anglophile would enable each brand to gain a US presence that tests the reaction of American consumers to its products in a way that no amount of surveys could ever reveal. However, and this is the important bit, the cost of the presence would be massively less than attempting to go it alone.

Could such a scheme lower the hurdles enough to enable British brands with ambition but limited resources to have a crack at the US market? I think it could, though it would be best for brands taking part to regard it as the acid test in market research, rather than a revenue raiser. Breaking even on such a venture should be the only financial goal. The real prize is gaining the proof that the brand will sell to US consumers – that knowledge is worth a fortune.

Contrasting service cultures

As I write this blog entry halfway across the Atlantic on a Virgin Atlantic flight back to London, the contrast in style between British and American service culture is especially distinct. To be fair to Branson, BA, BMI, et al, flying with a British airline could be the exception that proves the rule. The quality of service from US carriers stands out in comparison to those of the UK, and not for the better. But put this anomaly aside and it’s fair to say that, on the whole, the notion of customer service is held more strongly by Americans than the British.

It’s not difficult to find examples. To me, the best expression is the glass of iced water, poured the instant one sits down for dinner in a restaurant. It’s the simplest of gestures, but speaks volumes for an almost instinctive wish to ensure customers are comfortable. Rather more complex is the barrage of information that accompanies a request for salad dressing, but herein lies the product of the American expectation of choice and variety. And the gimmick of a bag of warm cookies offered when I checked into my hotel was a pleasant touch, if perhaps a little syrupy for my British sensibilities!

It’s not that I think the UK is outstandingly poor at customer service – at least not in comparison with global standards and certainly no worse than any other European nation. The difference is more a factor of American companies making service an integral part of their business. It may not always be perfectly attained, but the goal of service excellence undoubtedly takes a higher priority. Americans are happy to pay for it too. Adding 20% to a bill is usual; the now-and-again 10-15% tip of British practice would seem swingeing.

The reasons behind the US service culture are complex. Factors of more space, greater resources and the still-alive notion of the “American Dream” all spring to mind. Looking beyond these ephemeral thoughts would take more time than I have right now, but what’s matters to me are two things…

First, that UK business really could learn something from their stateside counterparts. There’s no doubt that great service gives a strong and positive impression that is enormously good for promoting repeat business. Second, is that British and American companies have much to learn when they expand overseas and into each other’s markets.

I’ve often said that the difference in culture between the UK and US is at least as great as between nations with different languages – Britain and France for instance. Consider, one would not expect to launch a presence in France without first gaining local advice, and most probably buying in local support, to help ensure a successful adaptation to local needs and expectations. Yet, most probably because of the shared tongue, many American and British firms seem to think there’s less to do when the expansion to their "special relationship2 partner.

Being in the US reminded me of this all over again, and of several firms – both US and UK – that believed they could “wing it”. This has brought into focus some observations about the incidence of British firms in the US market, and vice-versa. I’ll bring you some more thoughts on this next week.

Lonely Planet on London

On a separate but related topic, Lonely Planet Guides has just renewed its profile of London. It’s been controversial enough to hit the headlines. Click here to read the BBC News Online report about it.

Urban brand identity

This week I’m in New York on business for a few days. I’ve visited the city many times, and even lived in its environs for a while in the late 90s, yet stepping into a yellow cab for a ride across the city never loses its thrill. It’s more than just transportation; you're travelling in an icon of New York – a part of its brand identity.

It was with interest then, that I read a recent article telling the story of New York’s famous Checker Cab – the model produced until 1982 by the Checker Cab Manufacturing Company – recognisable to most Brits thanks to the 70s/80s TV show, Taxi. Back home in London, a ride in a Black Cab stirs up a similar emotions (for me, perhaps a little dulled through familiarity). Like the yellow cab, London’s own world-famous taxi is part of the city’s identity. The black and yellow cabs rank alongside landmarks, monuments and buildings as symbols of their parent cities’ appearance and character.

Thanks to a sensitive redesign, today’s TX1 model London Black Cab preserves visual cues of its predecessor. Unfortunately for New Yorkers, the last Checker Cab rolled down the Big Apple’s streets in 1999 and, while the Ford Crown Vics that ply New York today are the same canary yellow, it is the distinctive original that remains the icon. So much so that its trademark checker stripe is inescapable at an exhibition on the New York cab of the future (being held until 15th January at Parsons School of Design).

Though the Black Cab remains, Londoners are currently mourning the demise of the equally beloved and iconic Routemaster double-decker bus, always in red with its distinctive open boarding platform at the rear. Taken out of service only last month (with just a handful remaining on tourist "heritage routes"), the contemporary replacements don't hace the same depth of character.

Accident and Design

How important is it to keep such symbols of a city? Does their passing really take something away from the urban brand?

What becomes emblematic of a city can do so both by accident and by design, though in each case it is a factor of that thing being unique, inimitable and growing to become deeply cherished over time. Change is met with scepticsm (the Routemaster bus was actually widely disliked upon its introduction) and a prosaic background is no limiter to future status (the prized structure of Sydney’s famous Harbour Bridge is merely a copy of the lesser known Tyne Bridge of Newcastle in England).

Some icons are planned, such as Bilbao’s stunning Guggenheim Museum - the centrepiece of its urban regeneration. Hull, a city in northern England, has built a highly distinctive new aquarium with similar intentions.

A Brand Strategy

A city’s symbols are usually multiple in number and in this context, maintaining one that is outmoded or decrepit may be pointless. Founding new ones can be a positive step forward. Yet it is vital that city administrators exercise caution. When something distinctive and much loved is removed and replaced with the bland and mediocre, that result can be ruinous. The city of Birmingham in England suffered with a poor reputation for decades due to the 1960s Bull Ring shopping and office centre. Both ugly and unpleasant to inhabit, it became a highly negative symbol and the city’s brand was severely damaged as a result.

The Bull Ring’s replacement was completed in 2000 as part of a 25-year plan of urban renewal to change Birmingham’s image. The project has been a success, and recorded 36.5 million visitors in its first year of operation, making it the most visited shopping area in the UK outside the West End of London. The new centre is a modern, but far more sensitive design. What’s notable however, and something that shows that the planners understood the Birmingham brand, is that one part of the old centre remains, the Rotunda office tower. When built it was much derided, but suggestions in the 1980s that it should be demolished met with equal, if not greater, hostility from the local populace, who had clearly taken it into their hearts.

For good or bad then, an urban brand is the amalgamation of a city’s most dintinctive features. It is these things that people remember as they recommend or denouce the place to others. Understanding and managing this brand must be central to the planning strategies of city administrators worldwide. Sometimes the loss of a loved symbol is unavoidable, but forward planning and a clear sense of actual or aspired to brand values will help cities in their self-promotion and social and economic success.