Archive for the ‘Tony Murray’ Category

T Time: More on Prolific North

Monday, January 14th, 2013

Those of you in the know or with little else to do, will have already said hello to Prolific North or How-Do II as it will inevitably be known. How-Do I went under last Spring amid a welter of insinuations, recriminations and going into administrations by a number of the various parties associated with the dying days of its original incarnation.

I think it’s fair to say that, King Arthur-like, there was always the expectation that How-Do would return when the need was greatest. It was always going to awake from its enforced slumber in its digital Avalon when a truly big media story looked likely to go uncovered in the North, when a major creative renaissance saw a North-West agency win some non-retail business or when Nick Jaspan, the once and future proprietor, accepted, for good and all, that he was largely unemployable anywhere else. Well one out of three ain’t bad.

The reason it’s not billed as How-Do II must remain a mystery, however, one known only to the sundry parties involved and, presumably, my highly earned friends. So should the arms and lower limbs of the Northern creative community be widely spread to welcome back this re-interloper? Well yes they should. Prolific North will have, quite literally, a defining role in the Northern creative and media communities.
Let’s be brutally honest about this – outside of London, the UK now only has Manchester as a true creative and media hub. At one time, the city was coming a poor third to the combined might of the Glasgow and, more particularly, the Edinburgh scene.

Severely knacked by both the decline (and relocation) of its booze business, the un-Scotland-ising of its financial services industry and the comparative lack of high-spending north of-the border-only charity and health clients, Scottish marketing communications staff are now as rare as Comet Christmas casuals.

Birmingham, Bristol, the North East and Yorkshire never gained the creative or critical mass to spawn more than a few “where the fuck-did-they-come-from?” fleeting aberrations that are now only found under the “PMT machine for sale. Buyer must collect” heading of a Craig’s Listing near you.

It is to Prolific North’s credit that both Liverpool and, in an extension to the original How-Do remit, Yorkshire are to be covered by the new site. Will these two regions accept that, as London is the governor in the South (and nationally and, less definitely, internationally), so Manc is the daddy in the North? Almost certainly not, but then there’s still those in Manc that like to make out that London isn’t really a factor in the thinking of any client with a half-decent telly or national press budget. Well good luck with that one. Best pitch for that pliers account, mind, while you’re waiting for the Carlsberg call-up, happen.

In truth, drawing up boundaries for an out-of-London marketing and media site is a tricky matter. Even if you restricted it to Manc, would you still include the Altrincham companies? Even the Manchester Evening News is now based half-way to Yorkshire, would it get a look in? Client companies, media owners and marcom companies all, like it or not, have a focus on one particular region if they are based outside of London. A client will use an agency either based on his doorstep or in Soho. A media owner is interested in national advertisers and those local to him.

The people that staff these sundry businesses, though, are a different matter. As soon as staff get “found out” on one side of the Pennines they are likely to scoot across the other side or, if it was something really bad, apply for a job in the ‘Pool. With a statement worthy of the bleeding obviousness mastered by Sky News sofa commentators, it’s people that read websites and it’s people that have a migratory tendency, whether it’s a matter of necessity or aspiration.

In that respect, the Manc, Liverpool, Yorkshire footprint is not a bad one and should, at least, be welcomed by recruitment consultancies and those unwelcome in their own region.

For two industries as dynamic and as fluid as media and marketing communications, definition is a key issue. New talents are ever emerging, while more mature businesses are ever dodging their due date with Dignitas.

Similarly, new technologies – all of them remorselessly digital of hue – are also making almost daily debuts. If clients are to know where to look, if they are to have the confidence to say ‘no’ to a weekly Euston trip, then they need to have a sense of the local landscape. They need a map.

The region was de-sat-navved when How-Do withdrew. It was half-heartedly Apple-mapped by several contenders, not all of them Scottish.While the commercially creative community in the North is lucky to have a more vibrant business press than in most other regions, standard business coverage and media business coverage do not mesh well.

The MEN or the Yorkshire Post is hardly likely to give unbiased house-space to the success of rivals, while, as everybody knows, all business editors are morally obliged to fucking hate PR folk, even the cute ones. I believe it’s in their contract. Similarly, advertising agencies get short-shrift as business journos secretly suspect that any positive coverage will prove a boon to their own ad sales departments and that would never do.

Believe me, some small, admittedly dwindling, number of journos, are still free to exercise some discretion in these matters.

The need for Prolific North, then, lies in the specific dearth of informed, opinion-altering coverage of the vibrancy of the creative and media scene across the North. That is unassailably true.

The return of the site formerly-known-as-How-Do to the fray, though, does usher in another issue – there’s going to be an awful lot of awards events in the North (and, in particular, in Manc) this spring. With Prolific North looking to build on the hugely successful heritage of the How-Do awards with its own re-booted event, we now have a total of three ceremonies happening in May.

There’s the Prolific North Awards on May 16th, the MPA Awards on the 22nd and the Roses at some unspecified date the same month. There are also several other regional marketing, PR and creative awards spread out across the year.

Which ones should you enter then?

Well, the MPA has a huge up-hill battle in terms of credibility. For most, the Manchester Publicity Association is still best-known for its Christmas piss-up, with even that not as highly-regarded as it once was. The appointment of a full-time paid MD has, as yet, done nothing to show that the association, as a whole, has in any way been revitalised.

Its massaging of its membership figures, quite frankly, hasn’t helped. Its 2013 awards were announced when How-Do vanished from the scene. An awards event would have seemed an obvious way for the “new” MPA to prove its relevance. The problem is that the precedents don’t look good. Both the Yorkshire Publicity Association and the North East Publicity Association have long organised their own events and both have faced the same problems. As they are both organised by pub clubs, there is a sense that, Alice in Wonderland like, all shall have prizes, with many awards made on political, rather than creative grounds.

Have a look at who the judges are, before writing your entry cheque, and ask this crucial question – do the judges walk away knowing the results? If the answer is “no” and the results are to be “moderated” or based on secret ballots, then don’t enter. It’s a swizz. My prediction for this one – it will run for one year, put on a good show, have highly factional results and will merge with Prolific North for Year Two – a vastly more sensible proposition.

Then there’s the Roses – once the daddy of all of the out-of-London creative awards events, it has struggled in recent years. The Scottish agencies, once its mainstay, have blackballed it en masse, opting to both sweep the floor at their own national awards and to get a nomination in the charity copywriting section of truly UK-wide events.

Similarly, the decision to split the advertising and design categories into two separate Roses events and to graft on a number of architecture categories was short-sighted and disastrous in terms of numbers of both entries and attendees. Despite the lack of North of the Border entries, the event also garners little coverage outside of Scotland, making it little more than an exercise in onanism (as if they needed another) for most North of England creative teams.

If the Prolific North Awards can galvanise client awareness and participation in the same way as the How-Do awards did, then they could already be on a winner. Similarly, the successful entrants received wide spread coverage across the North West, ensuring at least indigenous clients and recruitment prospects were aware of any given company’s success. True a little more thought could go into the categories and maybe a little more specialist muscle into the judging of categories such as PR and Creative Agency but, over all, it’s by far the best prospect of the three.

While it’s a bit spartan and under-populated at present, Prolific North marks a welcome return for Jaspan and his team. If you’re serious about establishing the north as a viable creative community, one that client companies can turn to, safe in the knowledge that its diversity can provide a solution for most marketing communications requirements – except telly obviously – then support Prolific North. It’s your shop window, after all, and there’s enough of those boarded up across Manc and beyond already.

Tony Murray is Managing Editor of Gafencu Men in Hong Kong. He was previously editor of Adline and group managing editor of the Carnyx Group, publishers of The Drum and former publishers of The Marketeer. You can contact him at tonymurray37ATgmailDOTcom

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Spam, spam, spam and the pagers of spin! Part 3 of the 5 mistakes Marcomms agencies make

Wednesday, November 7th, 2012

From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…

Many marcoms companies’ new business initiatives are often more self-defeating than a schizophrenic tag team. They shoot themselves in the foot more frequently than the Paralympic All-Comers Myopic Toenail Target squad. If new business is the life blood of such businesses, it is small wonder that so many are pale, uninteresting and in desperate need of life support.

Few choose new business as a career. On the North-West scene, only Duncan Slater, currently at Origin Creative in Cheadle Heath strikes me as a serial new biz guy. With a career that has spanned, just off the top of my head, Poulter, BJL, Cheetham Bell, Attik and the Advertising Agency, Slater

demonstrates both the ubiquity of the new business role and the tendency for burn-out.

The big problem with new business is finding a point of difference. With PR consultancies, this tends to come from the top. More than most marcom sectors, PR clients tend to buy into people. Entranced by the senior staff, clients buy into charismatic or short-skirted MDs and hope for the best. Frequently, they never see these senior people again, except at the client Xmas party. For some reason, this is known as the Christmas Carroll Syndrome.

When it comes to design and digital, clients seem to buy more into the work. Tangible look-nice products, with a hint of retro-fitted strategy and planning, work wonders here. When it comes to advertising, though, this is where there really is a struggle to find a point of difference.

Lacking the award-winning show reels of their London contemporaries, it’s forever arse-scratching time in regional ad agencies as they desperately try to think of something – anything – that differentiates them from the rivals. This results in no end of tortuous positioning statements, with my all-time favourite being: “Everyone’s favourite number two”, an unintentionally scatological catchline once championed by Swindon’s Emery Mclaven and Orr.

Laurie O’Toole, now retired, was the long-time business development director of BDH. With its once untouchable creative reputation and global connections, BDH had had a better story to tell than most regional players, but it still struggled – as it does today under its TBWA Mank guise – with new business.

O’Toole tells the story of a major new business push by BDH, back at the end of the 90s. This involved sending a series of off-the-wall mailers to a number of prospects on a one-a-day basis for a week, with O’Toole calling the now surely fascinated client on the Friday to arrange an appointment. Well that was the plan.

Come the Friday, O’ Toole called one particular target and the conversation from the client end went something like this: “Well, Mr O’Toole, when I got your first mailer on Monday, I was intrigued. The second mailer, on Tuesday, continued to pique my interest. By Wednesday and the third mailer, I was starting to get irritated. When the fourth arrived, on Thursday, I was genuinely annoyed. Had you been here on Friday, when the fifth one arrived, I would have happily rolled it up and stuck it right up your arse…”

The truth is, despite what agencies seem to believe, most new business campaigns do more to alienate clients than to engage them. Some things are worse, though. Being a bad loser for instance. When BDH lost out on a pitch for Spam (the tinned luncheon meat, not the helpful penile resuscitation emails) to Leeds’ Advertising Principles, O’Toole went on record to say he was glad that they hadn’t won it and that it was “easy for agencies to become retirement homes for dying brands”. Naturally, AP took some umbrage at this and shared the quote with Spam central, who decided to bring out the legals against BDH. Thankfully, it was eventually all settled with lots of printed apologies and grovelling.

Mr O’Toole’s colleagues at BDH, deeply amused by Luncheon-meat gate, decided to have a bit of fun with him, however. They mocked up a letter, on Spam-headed paper, saying that the company was no longer going for BDH, but had decided to go for Laurie personally. The ever-fiscally frugal O’Toole, whose monologues on the state of his pension fund were legendary, is believed to have spent most of the rest of the day astride the crapper of BDH’s old Chester Road HQ.

Aside from the inherent dangers of the overly keen new biz campaign and the obvious negatives of being a poor loser, problems can emerge from even the most seemingly harmless – well ish – of promotional activities, especially if they err on the bold side. The problem of being cutting edge is that people tend to get cut. And they don’t like it.

The finest example of this involves not one, not two, but three North West media and marketing institutions. Back around the turn of the millennium, EMAP was still pushing its little-remembered Big City Network, with the drive being co-ordinated through the offices of the one-time Piccadilly radio.

To raise awareness, the radio group turned to Tucker-Clarke Williams, the fore-runner of Love Creative, and Communique, the fore-runner of around 50 per cent of today North West PR companies. Together, the three devised a decisive bit of waggery.

This saw pagers anonymously delivered to many of the regional media buyers and agency heads. The source of these pagers was not revealed and they were only accompanied by a note advising the recipient to keep them close. Naturally, the intrigue factor was huge. Over the next two weeks, all the pagees received a series of personalised messages via their devices. Every one addressed them by name and was heavy on sexual innuendo of an S&M variety. What could go wrong?

Sadly, one of the female recipients had just been caught out having an affair. Her wronged hubby was not of a mind to accept the dominance and submission messages she was receiving on a twice daily basis as a bit of prankery. He somehow tracked the source down to EMAP and threatened to beat the shit out of their marketing people, suspecting one of them had a distinctly salami sinking agenda in mind for his errant Mrs Desperate back-pedalling and unconvincing explanation about a looming “Dominance and Submission” pay off party did little to salve the situation. The pager programme was brought to a premature conclusion. The Big City network, too, was wound up soon after, though I doubt that was as a direct result. Probably.

The lessons here? Clients don’t want to hear from you anything like as much as you want to hear from them, be gracious in defeat and, whenever planning something off-the-wall-ish, ask yourself: “What is the worst that can happen?” Then be ready for when it does.

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Once Upon a Time.. Part 2 of The five biggest mistakes marcomms players make

Tuesday, November 6th, 2012

From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…

The Bastard Love Child on Speed of the Obsessively Positive Spin is to try and completely reinvent the world and hope everyone else joins in. They won’t.
My favourite example of this is the once mighty Poulter, not long ago the largest advertising agency in Yorkshire. Back in the late 90s, Poulter had finally completed its long-mooted buyout from its mercurial founder, Graham Poulter. It was a move that was not without acrimony, with little love lost between the vendor and the buy-out team. Poulter (the man) had long been an absentee landlord and the senior management team pretty much held a gun to his head, threatening to walk with all the business unless he sold it to them.

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Finally achieving the buyout, led by long-time MD Richard Lewis, the senior team were jubilant. Then it all went more tits up than Jordan in zero-g.
The acquirees were advertising men. Even today, despite all the lip service paid to media-neutrality, integrated marketing and whatever the latest bollocks term is for the same old shite, advertising men want to make telly. That’s proper advertising that is – none of your shelf wobblers or DM flyers. To be fair, Poulter made some very good telly, especially for the likes of McCain, Rocking Robin and Yorkshire Water.
It didn’t actually make any money though and, gradually, all these accounts vanished. This left the agency solely propped up by its, then very profitable, sales promotion division. It was no secret that Gary McCall, head of sales promotion, and his chums were quietly seething that all the SP profits were quietly being pissed away propping up the agency’s dying above-the-line interests.
One morning, while still at Adline, I got a phone call from Richard Lewis, until then an evangelist for the mbo’d Poulter. It went something like this:
“Hi Tony. It’s Richard. I just thought I’d tell you that I’ve decided to leave Poulter. So has the creative director. And the FD. And three of the directors…”
Me: “What?”

Richard: “Yeah, we just all woke one morning and decided we wanted to go and do something else. Fishing maybe.”

Me: “All of you woke up on the same morning and decided you wanted to go and do something else?”

Richard: “Yes. That’s right. Maybe open a sandwich shop.”

Me: “You, the CD, the FD and four other directors?”

And so the conversation continued, with Richard blithely insisting on the combined spontaneity of the decision and me suggesting that the fact Gary McCall was taking over was a Bit of a Giveaway.

To be honest, it was insulting. I was disappointed in Richard as he was somebody I’d had a lot of respect for. There were then as yet undiscovered tribes in the Amazon basin who knew this was a palace coup, backed by the banks to whom the mbo team had hocked most of their organs.
The sad thing is, even people who work in and with the media frequently don’t understand how it works. I remember an angry phone conversation with the marketing director of Wilmans, the wallpaper folk. I’d spoken to her about the fact it was widely rumoured they had put their account out to pitch. She’d confirmed it. We ran the story. She rang up to complain:

“You can’t run that story. I never signed a press release off”.

Me: “Listen luv, this is how the media works…”

Ooh, I was an unreconstructed patronising git back then. Now, of course, I’m more PC than George Dixon.

The lesson to be learnt here? Don’t insult the media, well unless you spend a great deal of money advertising with them. Then you can pretty much do what you like. People won’t share your ego-salving fantasy of how you’d like the world to be, except when there’s a huge stack of cash involved.
Tomorrow: Spam, dominance, submission and collateral damage

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A bunch of cobblers! The five biggest mistakes marcomms players make. Part 1

Monday, November 5th, 2012

From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…

If marketing communications companies were people, you would not go down the pub with them. At least, not twice. They would be, by nature, overly-opinionated gits. They’d criticise your choice of hairstyle and then try and charge you 20 quid for the privilege. Having belittled your head topiary, they would then attempt to get you to use one of their mates to restyle it, pocketing another two tenners in the process. Who among us would not tell them the fuck right off?

Giving advice about how best to present yourself, corporately or individually, is the bottom line for every marketing communications discipline – from PR to advertising from digital to DM. Frequently, though, marcom companies are far better at dishing it out than taking it. When it comes to managing their own reputations, however, many companies in the sector are, at best, cackhanded or delusional. Most are just plain shite.

Let us go then, you and I, and have a crafty gander at Five of the Most Common Mistakes Made by Marcom Companies When it Comes to Managing their Own PR. While I’ll name, shame and blame several companies, I suspect many of you will have been guilty of at least one of them…

  1. The Obsessively Positive Spin

It’s always good news week in marcoms land. Every win co-incides with a major new period of spend by the client, while every loss is of a company that hasn’t spent for at least 18 months. Maybe more. A hasty “If they can make money on those margins…” is the traditional benediction passed on to winning competitors.

Perhaps the two most desperate bids to do this both came from Newcastle. Of all the regional marcom centres, the North East is the most bizarre. The region finds it hugely difficult to attract in new business, meaning new agencies in the area only survive by taking accounts off the local competition. As a result it is the most cut-throat and corrupt marcoms area in the country. Without the agencies, design houses and PR companies of the North East, the British Little Brown Envelope industry would surely falter and die. Good work Newcastle backhander brigade.

As a result, North East players are particularly desperate not to lose face in front of their rivals. This they, quite rightly, believe will hand the competition a big shitty stick with which to beat them.

Thus, when Lynx PR had to announce it had parted company with the fairly recently appointed head of its North East office, it did it thus: “As part of its on-going commitment to staff development, Lynx PR has sacked the head of its Newcastle office.” I kid you not.

In a similar vein, Robson Brown, then Newcastle’s largest agency, put out a statement saying: “In line with its programme of national expansion, Robson Brown is to shut its Sunderland office.”

Both companies attempted to justify their opening paragraphs with desperate guff about promoting from within and being a genuine national offering, but it was unconvincing stuff.

The lesson to be learnt here? It’s better to take it on the chin, than to make yourself look ludicrous. It’s a five minute wonder. If you try and put a gloss on it, no-one will believe it and you’ll merely extend the life of the story.

Tomorrow: The Bastard Love Child on Speed of the Obsessively Positive Spin

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T Time: The Mob Rules

Monday, October 29th, 2012

From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…

Like many of my generation, I wrote to Jimmy Savile. In my case, I asked him if he could sort it for me to meet a Zygon, a Doctor Who baddie that lived below Loch Ness. He never wrote back. Maybe I shouldn’t have included a picture. Of me. Not the Zygon.

Rumours about Jimmy Savile were apparently in circulation even way back then and long before the peroxide popster was well past fixing. The most prurient of these concerned backhanders paid to morgue attendants for a little alone time with the recently departed. Of course, the truth concerning these “expiry dates” has never been established.

Then again, neither has any of the current crop of allegations.

Anyone who has seen the harrowing recollections in the Panorama programme (Jimmy Savile: What the BBC Knew) would find it hard to doubt the sincerity of the participants. None of them, however, was corroborated. Even if they had been, they would not have been aired had Savile not made his final travel. Savile’s right to sue, like his pensionorial right to Winter Fuel Payments, died with him.

The sheer volume of posthumously-emerged accusers obviously suggests the likelihood of Savile’s paedophile proclivities. The fact that many of them seem to be currently working in chip shops in the Roundhay Park area etc., though, suggests a certain payday sensibility. The way in which the allegations have been universally accepted as gospel, however, is perhaps a little disturbing.

The lack of any dissenting voices demonstrates the muscular orthodoxy that characterises the current state of UK media. While rightly desperate to fend off state control in the wake of the phone tapping scandal, there has been no such willingness by any commentator to posit alternative views on potentially sensitive subjects.

This unanimity of position seems to rely, depending on the issue, more on a fear of inciting the belligerence of particularly vocal single issue pressure groups or, of course, the Daily Mail. The latter case is perhaps the most bizarre, given that the Mail itself is a supposed manifestation of the free press. In truth, it acts more like a rabid sheep dog, savagely turning on any member of the media flock that fails to follow its line. On anything.

The most virulent manifestation of the former has been the Hillsborough Action Group.  The publication of the recent report was, publicly at least, greeted as the Absolute Truth. This was despite the fact that, in private, a number of broadcast and print journalists believed the true truth lay somewhere between this latest report, which totally exonerated fans, and earlier investigations that equally exonerated the emergency services. Any suggestion, however, that every Liverpool footie fan was not a jolly gap-toothed chap with a heart of gold would have been howled down.

It seems every media owner was in obvious fear of inciting this opprobrium and, of course, the inevitable Sun-style circulation-collapse throughout Merseyside that would ensue. It is to Liverpool’s credit that, I suspect, it is the only city in the UK that could create such a phenomenon, but such muscular orthodoxy rarely guarantees the veracity of anything. All of which brings us back to Mr Savile.

With Savile no longer in the saddle, the search for warmer scalps is well under way. Gary Glitter has been in and out of custody, while 69-year-old Freddie Starr has been pre-emptively defending himself, while sitting on a sofa next to his 30-year-old fiancée.

Inevitably, with the Savile-saga proving so lucrative, both in terms of reader-acquisition and, ultimately, “my own story” pay-offs, the reputations of many other dead celebs are sure to be exhumed. The ever-reliable internet has already suggested John Peel. This, though, seems largely on the grounds of his obvious similarities to Savile – these being that he was a DJ, started his career in the sixties and, most importantly, is dead.

For those interested in such things, I am reliably informed that the current list of runners and riders includes Hughie Green (10-1), Leslie Crowther (20-1), Jimmy Edwards (40-1), Arthur Negus (100-1) and Fred(A) the Blue Peter tortoise (1000-1). Aye, madness will ensue when the public’s appetite for such things is aroused.

In these bizarre times, it is perhaps ironic that the most apt of words come from the late Ronnie James Dio, one-time lead singer of Black Sabbath and not a paedo (probably). In the opening number to his second album with the band, Dio perhaps far-sightedly, warns us: “When you listen to fools, the mob rules.” Quite.

Tony Murray never did get to meet a Zygon. In a fit of pique he became a journalist and moved to Hong Kong.

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T Time: No Bread and Discuses

Monday, September 24th, 2012

From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…

When the great Roman Empire, the template for all future consumer societies, faced terminal decline, it had two distinct offerings designed to ward off widespread chaos. Bread. And circuses.

With a distinct lack of bread available, unless you work for a bank or can reliably kick a ball between two sticks most Saturdays, the emphasis in the Britain of 2012 has clearly been on circuses. Fortunately, we’ve been blessed with two huge pleb-enthralling spectacles in recent months – the Diamond Jubilee and the Olympics.

Thanks to Cliff Richard being specially de-frosted to sing before the Monarch and the Thames briefly – and for the first time since the last Elizabethan age – being home to more boats than old cans of Fosters and used prophylactics, the summer started well. With the Old Spices precariously balanced on taxis and the UK gaining more gold in two-weeks than even a mid-level stockbroker, it ended quite impressively too.

What now though? With a summer of sport and sycophancy behind us, how is the populace to be distracted from nurse-less hospitals and teacher-less schools for the remainder of the year? Fortunately, the third-in-line to the throne selflessly came to the rescue.

It is believed that the decision to waggle the young royal’s personal crown jewels right across the internet came directly from Number 10. It proved so popular that Downing Street instantly decreed that Princess Kate should get her baps out on the internet and in Closer magazine (other Gallic opportunistic porn mags are available). This saved a lot of time. Diana, her predecessor as Princess of Hearts, should have followed the same policy, rather than seemingly setting out to expose her royal chestiness to every blue-veined male on an individual basis. Probably alphabetically.

Flushed with the success of these twin royal raunchy reveals, it is believed that the Con-Doms have a number of treats in store to while away the chillier months.

In October, government scientists will announce a breakthrough in cloning technology. This will see them able to replicate multiple Take Thats at will. Fortunately, due to government cut backs in science funding, these cloned musicians – branded Fake That by a wag at The Sun – are only three inches high. To keep things in scale, Jason Orange is only two inches tall. By November, Government plans will see a Fake That playing in every municipal park, entertaining everyone with 20/20 vision or a big magnifying glass.

In December, an assembled group of Fake Thats secure the coveted Xmas No 1 with a novelty cover version of It Only Takes a Minute Girl. The novelty being, of course, that “Minute” is pronounced “My-Newt”. Celebrations are spoilt by the news that the Robbie Williams of the Fake That based in Egerton Park has left the group. Sadly, his ambitions to launch a solo career are frustrated when he is eaten by a big dog.

Find all this a trifle incredible? Unlikely even? Nick Clegg is currently trying to convince his party that he didn’t mean to make them history when he signed up for his lovely, embossed “Deputy Prime Minister” business card and, come January, it’s bankers bonus season again. Now that really is fucking unbelievable.

Tony Murray is Managing Editor of Gafencu Men in Hong Kong. He was previously editor of Adline and group managing editor of the Carnyx Group, publishers of The Drum and former publishers of The Marketeer. You can contact him at tonymurray37ATgmailDOTcom

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T Time: Tweet nothings

Tuesday, September 11th, 2012

Mr Murray offering a helping hand at the launch of Macau’s Playboy Club

From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…

There’s not an office in the online world whose productivity couldn’t be improved by blocking Facebook, far and away the most pernicious of social media sites. Even at the site’s own Californian headquarters, I suspect staff spend more time searching out bikini shots of colleagues’ wives than devising new and ever-more intrusive logarithms.

Actually, that’s probably not true. For West Coast computer geeks expressing even a passing partiality for lady parts probably has all the social cache of “nigger-baiting”. Heavy sigh, quite frankly, online chums.

In truth, social media has ushered in an era of permanent displacement, a time when we can make it clearly apparent to those we are with, that we’d rather we weren’t. Gone are the days of wistful sighs, staring into the middle distance and fingering lockets. Now you can simply Skype your absentee loved one while dining with someone else’s.

“Social media”, alongside “coalition government” and “Celebrity Big Brother”, will go down in history as one of the most misnomerous terms of our times. And that’s what makes me think its days may be numbered, and not necessarily double-digitally.

Its prominence in the marketing mix is now widely disproportionate to its effectiveness. It is prospering in these chastened times due to both its low initiation cost and its supposed measurabililty. To all intents and purposes, it is the bastard child of direct marketing, that all but forgotten discipline that threatened to topple above-the-line activity back in the early 1990s.

Back then, Heinz renounced TV, outdoor, radio and press in favour of DM. In less than two months, the fact that Heinz Needz Screenz became more than apparent, as brand awareness tumbled and baked beans were back on the box.

Social media does the business when it comes to a quick nip and tuck for berated brands. It may even be the new NME when it comes to being the herald of undiscovered youthenalia. But as a dedicated manipulator of mass markets, its time may never come.

There is an in-built twatification factor to twitter, for instance, that makes any endorsement somewhat suspect. Those that come to crave a cosmetic advocated by a two-fingered TOWIE typist typically boast all the social eclat of a Hello Kitty Tampon Dispenser.

Similarly, those Foursquare stalwarts foolhardy enough to covet a MacDonalds mayordom are hardly the AB1s marketing folk nocturnally emit at the very thought of. Neither are they likely to excite admiration and emulation among those subject to their news feeds.

The ads carried by Google and Facebook, although frequently bracketed with social media, are actually more of an extreme narrowcast, but seldom as effectively targetted as they claim. Despite supposedly being tailored to an individual’s Facebook page or Google account, their broadbrush approach leaves much to be desired. Effectiveness, for instance.

Rightly sensing that I’m in Hong Kong, my Facebook page, for example, currently carries ads for Galaxy mobile phones, a loan from the HSBC, a chance to study for a Masters degree in Liverpool, discount johnnies and several pairs of shiny shoes last seen as the footwear of seventies porn protagonists.

All of which are neatly rendered in Cantonese.

I believe the vernacular favoured by the digerati is “Fail”. At least it was some years back.

Ah well, social media back in your wee box it is for you. Let the established marketing channels shuffle around a little and find you a niche, for niche you are.

The last nail in your coffin? Well, as my very good friend and current gun-for-hire, Mr Paul Fabretti, assures me, most clients are now bringing all their social media activity in-house.

There’s nothing like the prospect of a vanishing fee to restore the faith of the ever-fickle marketing communications community into more chargable channels.

You take care now, blog buddies everywhere.

Tony Murray is managing editor of Gafencu Men in Hong Kong. He was previously editor of Adline and group managing editor of the Carnyx Group, publishers of The Drum and former publishers of The Marketeer. Use the following link to befriend him on Facebook.

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T Time: Why I hate the Paralympics

Monday, September 3rd, 2012

From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…

“And finally (bong!) today, in London, a man with no legs ran a 100m in less than three minutes  (bong!)….” It’s been billed as a continuation or even the successor to this summer’s Games, but actually the Paralympics looks ever more like the skateboarding duck of the Olympic world.

In truth, the Paralympics is a difficult event. It taxes the media to maintain the myth that it’s Just as Significant and No Different to the Proper Olympics. It also forces the public to take a view of it that sits somewhere between patronising and a sort of awkward, half-hearted acceptance.

After all, we’ve just had weeks of physical specimens, honed to a peak of highly-trained perfection, holding aloft gold medals, symbols of the highest levels of human achievement.

Blokes across the country have feigned interest in cycling and hurdling, while concealing a semi- at the thought of a lycra-clad Jessica Ennis or Victoria Pendleton bending over to pick up a spoon. While, for the ladies, there were twittered pix of Tom Daley in his Speedos.

How, then does this parade of Adonii sit alongside the Paralympics? While good-natured ribbing resulted from any mention of Olympic tickets for the Women’s Beach Volleyball, how would we react should an office member brag of a similar allocation at the Paralympics? Unless they had a relative on the team, that is. We’d feign approval, of course, but would there be a non-PC hint of discomfort nestling there?

The problem of squaring the able-bodied Olympics alongside its more physically-challenged companion is not a new one. Back in 2008, the Chinese government printed a special booklet of advice for volunteers helping out at the Beijing Paralympics.
Volunteers, it read, should be aware that physically handicapped people tend to be miserable, truculent and difficult to handle.

The booklet was swiftly pulped following an international outcry. While the Chinese booklet clearly highlights the huge problems the PRC has with dealing with less than perfect specimens of humanity, it does – no matter how ham-fistedly or mistakenly– acknowledge a difference. Something you’d be hard to distinguish in the 2012 media approach.

Over the weekend, to somewhat muted coverage, Daniella Peers, a member of the Canadian wheelchair basketball team at the 2004 Athens Paralympics, billed the event’s 2012 incarnation as a “freakshow”.

Commenting on the media treatment of this year’s tourament, Ms Peers said: “They [the media] are always referring back to the idea that disability is this tragic, horrible thing in our bodies. Focusing on bodies as the root of disability is like seeing racism as a problem of skin colour.”

Much though I hate to disagree with a bronze-medal winning Paralympian, even a Canadian one, I wonder if she’s not missed the point pretty much entirely. Surely the ultimate insult to these physically-challenged athletes is to treat them exactly the same as the specimens of human perfection that preceded them?

Does anyone really believe that Zara Phillips had to try a tenth as hard as Ellie Simmonds to get on the winners’ podium? While having Prince Phillip as a granddad is certainly some kind of handicap, it’s clearly preferable to short-limbed dwarfism. Well, probably.

The media coverage of the Paralympics brings into relief a clear problem of the Times We Live In. We’ve started to confuse equality and homogeneity. Differences have to be papered over, rather than considered or celebrated.

Frankly thalidomide athletes with their arms aloft in conscious mimicry of the poses struck by the long-limbed athletes of a month ago look a little lacking in dignity. Even grotesque, though it’s hardly permissible to say – or even think – so.

Should these athletes, at the behest of some poolside photographer, really be expected to adopt the ill-fitting template of their “physically-perfect” predecessors?

We live in mad Alice in Wonderland times, times where, as the Dodo decreed, all must have prizes. Everyone, in short (or, even, if short) must be treated exactly the same, no matter what their age, creed, colour, intelligence or physical prowess. This is regardless of their needs, preferences or culture. Taken to extreme, as it was over the weekend, this sees parents complaining that their offspring have failed their English GCSEs just because they’re semi-literate. Shame.

The Vulcans, as so often, have a word for it. Unfortunately that word is IDIC – Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. As maxims for life derived from short-lived American TV sci-fi shows of the 1960s go, it’s clearly not a bad one. It’s certainly several up on “Danger, Will Robinson, danger…” which lacks a somewhat more general application.

The Paralympics is not the Olympics and the media should stop pretending it is. While the Olympics celebrate the perfection of the human form, the Paralympics celebrate the sublime nature of the human spirit in overcoming adversity. It’s no sin to say one is less photogenic than the other.

Perhaps the true beauty of the Paralympics is that it is one event that brings into sharp focus those twin contradictions of contemporary life – an abject body fascism and an obsession with pretending everyone is fundamentally the same. If it takes a paraplegic on a podium to bring that one into relief, well so be it.
Live Long and Prosper Y’all. Well most of you.

Tony Murray is Managing Editor of Gafencu Men in Hong Kong. He was previously editor of Adline and group managing editor of the Carnyx Group, publishers of The Drum and former publishers of The Marketeer. You can contact him at tonymurray37ATgmailDOTcom

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T Time: China, the U.S., and the Cold PR War

Tuesday, August 28th, 2012
From working as an editor in the UK, to taking charge of a Hong Kong magazine, industry journalist Tony Murray has formed innumerable opinions. Interested to hear a few we invited him to share his thoughts via a regular guest blog. Use the comments form below if you have any feedback or written bile to spit as a result, and please remember; if you don’t like it, he doesn’t work for us…
Public
Relations
Crisis

This week I have mainly been in Delhi and have, consequently been musing on the nature of travel writing. The great cliché of which is to deem a city, a country or even a whole continent as a place of Great Contrasts. As with all great cliches there is a kernelette of truth to it, quite frequently at the very least.

India is the “I” in BRIC, the international brotherhood of emerging regions – the others, from memory, being China, Brazil and Rusholme. Despite – or perhaps because of –this, India is, quite obligingly, clearly a country of considerable contrasts. Although I lived in China for five years, I have never seen the proximity of poverty and privilege that there is in Delhi.

While the city boasts five 5-star hotels and the biggest BMW showroom I’ve ever driven past, it is also riddled with a myriad of make-shift shanty towns. It is also commonplace to see women, often in full religious garb, picking across one of the city’s huge piles of drifting crap. Fetchingly, they usually bring their kids along.

This, then, is the curse of the emerging nations. They are obliged, often for sound economic and political resaons, to ape the countries of the west, putting forward a veneer of prosperity, while uneducated kids die in ditches.

The investment that could have saved them has gone on giving a free mall to incoming luxury brand owners or to building a shiny new stadium. They are, in fact, little more than kids themselves, playing dress-up in mum and dad’s cast-offs, while their little brother drowns in the bath.

Of all these emerging nations, though, it is China that has the greatest PR problem. This is for two reasons – it is a country that is crap at doing it’s own PR and it’s also the one that America hates the most.

Anyway you look at it, China is the New Russia. Whether it’s in terms of the Olympics, the space race or investment in arms, there’s a new cold war going on. True, China is not the military threat to the West that Russia was. Nor is it offering, despite its communist posturings, any true ideological alternative. It does, however, pose an economic threat in a way that the Moscow boys never could.

With the US hugely in debt to the PRC, with Chinese imports undermining the American economy and with Beijing’s “soft power” ever growing, Washinton rightly senses its role as the world’s solus super power is all but over.

Hence, the US misses out on no chance to knock China, subtly and not so subtly, seeking to undermine its standing in the world. Some recent events in China have, undoubtedly, been masterminded in some CIA anti-PRC PR laboratory somewhere.

What of the miraculous flight of a blind dissident who, acording to the New York Times, “ despite his lack of sight,  scaled the walls around his house, sneaked past his guards” and escaped to the US embassy several hundred miles away? All on exactly the same day that Big Hilary arrives in the Jing. Fuck me, what a coincidence.

Then there was the same US embassy that was releasing Beijing smog figures  contradicting the official ones. And what about the US coach that led the chorus of condemnation of the Olympic swimming success of Ye Shiwen, the Chinese 400m gold medallist?

The problem, though, is that China makes it easy. It does imprison dissidents, it probably does cheat at swimming and it does have huge environmental issues. There is, however, a huge degree of self-interest and more than a smidgeon of hubris in the negative PR campaign being orchestrated by the US.

China, however, compounds it all with its complete lack of understanding of PR. It is, to its very core, the ultimate piss-poor client.

It expects the media to pick up on only what it deems of interest, regardless of intrinsic merit. At the same time, it is genuinely outraged when any anti-China stories, no matter how firm the bases, are given any coverage whatsoever.

It was for this very reason that it set up the China Daily, it’s wholly government-owned english language newspaper. The “good old CD”, as it is known internally, has now spent 31 years “rectifying the distorted news values of the West”, while intermittenly slagging off the Dalai Lama.

It’s a practice that has caught on with local councils across the UK. Many of which now produce China-Dailyised monthly publications rectifying the distorted news values of the once-critical regional press. In a no-doubt satysfying double-whammy, many of these largely unread publications are subsidised by the funds once used to run public appointment jobs ads in said regionals. Fair play, though, they don’t often slag off Tibetan spiritual leaders.

Returning to China, though, I suspect what the US truly fears are the genuine contrasts highlighted by our friends in the East. It is, after all, a communist country that is out-performing the world’s mightiest bastion of capitalism. It is also an avowed non-democracy, where – a few skirmishes aside – the general populace show no real inclination to cast off their unappointed overlords.

What many observers forget is that, barely a generation and a half ago, many Chinese were on the verge of starvation. Today they have plasma screens and iphones. It’s not the stuff of revolution, at least not any time soon.

Lest we become a tad smug about our own greater consistency more locally, pray let us remember – for every Wilmslow, there’s a Wythensawe, for every Bowdon Vale, there’s a Benchill and for every Johnny Marr, there’s seemingly at least half a dozen Jason Oranges.

Manchester, too, has so much to answer for as, at the very least, a city of oft unfortunate contrasts

I thank you.

Tony Murray is Managing Editor of Gafencu Men in Hong Kong. He was previously editor of Adline and group managing editor of the Carnyx Group, publishers of The Drum and former publishers of The Marketeer. You can contact him at tonymurray37ATgmailDOTcom

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T Time: How Do is done

Monday, August 6th, 2012
Regular guest columnist, Tony Murray- managing editor of Gafencu Men magazine in Hong Kong, former editor of Adline, The Marketeer and The Drum- offers his own opinions, not that of Smoking Gun PR, on medialand’s latest news. Click here for his blog, and more of his thoughts.

It’s 5pm in old Hong Kong town and old Hong Kong town habits die hard.  Back in Blightyland it’s 10 am. Old ladies have, by now, been scrutinising Tesco’s vegetable aisle for only the finest radishes for nearly three hours, piles of today’s unread Metros are en route to be recycled into next week’s unread Metros and it’s time for How-do’s first update of the day.

Trepidation grips aficionados of the North West regional marketing and media scene, from Macclesfield to Mong Kok, from Wythenshawe to Wan Chai. What will this new day bring? Which PR consultancy will be claiming a client of seven-years-standing as a new win? Which digital agency will have amicably parted company with whom? Which transparent company re-branding exercise precedes a looming liquidation, well-known to all, apparently, save the How-do Crew? The community aggogles.

Sadly, in a little corner of England with the M3 postcode, it is forever Tuesday May 8th. About four O’Clock. With Groundhog Day predictability, Sly Bailey has, once again, resigned as chief exec of Trinity Mirror, Creative Concern is still looking to re-brand the new Cornerhouse and Karen Young, co-founder of the “Manchester-based integrated agency KMS Media” has, apparently, wrapped The Wrap. Forever.

Some things smack of serendipity. Whose morning would not be brightened by forever re-reading of Sly Bailey’s dismissal, the woman to whom the “Bring Back Maxwell” ceramic mug industry owes the whole of its turnover? Why was she ever appointed? Trinity Mirror senior appointment-making top guys, the clue was in the name. Learn a lesson and strike Sneaky Bushmills off your short-list now.

Fair play to Karen Young, though, she maintained one vital How-do tradition to the end. Her farewell Wrap was self-serving, lacking in insight and mentioned football. It was as if she knew. (For those still curious as to the name Creative Concern opted for for the transplanted Cornerhouse, I’m reliably informed it was “Beryl”).

On a more serious note, for five years How-do served the industry well. As an on-line brand, it came from nowhere, the product of proprietor Nick Jaspan’s post-Northwest Enquirer brooding. It emerged at a time when the Manc community, in particular, was facing its biggest change since the fax made regional sales representation obsolete (somewhere around 1986). It was, of course, the news that one of the world’s biggest broadcasters was coming to town – well the bit of it that comments on speedway races and makes primary-coloured non-peak time fare for prepubescents and stoned stus.

It would be invidious to single out one individual story or thread that nurtured the North West community’s love affair with How-Do, though it’s on-going fascination with Channel M and bemused pursuit of Michael Welch (the ill-starred fraudster who defrauded the NWDA of £440,000 before it had the chance to squander it on “hearts and minds” campaigns and pitching processes of bewildering length and complexity) strike me as particular highlights.

In the end, it was the sheer volume and variety of material that How-do carried that has ensured it is missed to this day. It may have lacked a degree of editorial judgment, allowing a number of organizations to get away with pretty much anything this side of nun-buggery but, in the end, it was this ‘honest broker’ approach that ensured it lasted as long as it did. How-do bore no grudges and made no judgements. It didn’t unduly promote advertisers, nor smite those that declined to help with the gas bill – a lesson that others in the sector should learn from, but won’t.

During its five-year run, How-do became part of the daily routine for media owners, PR consultants, advertising agencies, digital companies, designers and even seemed to crack the client market. It went on to stage the How-do Awards, the NW industry’s largest annual awards gathering since the hey-day of the Roses (any day pre-August 1999 frankly).

It departed the scene just as the BBC move that inspired its launch finally became a reality. The volume of material that was its every day diet is now restricted to individual company’s websites and the occasional nib on the MEN Monday media page.

Is this a loss? Well yes. The mere existence of How-do was a testimony to the vibrancy and diversity of the North West media and marketing community. Even the bits of it that are in Liverpool. No other area of the UK, outside of London, could have sustained such an on-line entity.

Will it be back? Well no. I doubt it. The wrangling that surrounded the abortive merger between How-do and Manchester Confidential has left Nick Jaspan, the project’s undoubted auteur, unlikely to return to the fray.

Even Mark “Gordo” Garner the serial-proprietor behind ManCon could not replace Jaspan at the How-do helm, though we should be grateful for the mature, reputation-enhancing and dignified manner with which he has comported himself since HD’s unfortunate demise.

How do. How did. How done.

How-do.co.uk may be gone, but you can still get nearly 40 per cent off a glass of prosecco at the Kaleido Bar and Grill (near Urbis) thanks to ManCon.
God bless yer.

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