It's not for everybody

I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly...

Ron Burgundy

That's one of the many lines I love from the movie, Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. I like scotch too... or rather I learned to like scotch over time. Scotch is the Jack Kerouac's On the Road of liquor. The first encounter may leave you wondering what all the fuss is about. You might even hate it. It takes time and a deliberate effort to appreciate both art forms. Admittedly, scotch the brand won me over long before I learned to appreciate the taste of it.

If you happen to be a teetotaler, forgive me. I’m not endorsing drinking (although it’s pretty awesome once you get the hang of it), I’m merely making a point about branding. Despite the myriad of scotch varieties and distilleries, over the centuries the category as a whole has developed a distinct and unified brand identity. Unlike other general categories like cars, or beef or even beer, the very idea of scotch generates strong and very specific associations. Intuitively we think of Scotland, kilts and thrifty old men. Think a little longer and the associations get more layered and complex: success, decorum, taste and even exclusivity. It's a truly aspirational spirit, but it’s not for everyone.

Had the Scots set out to make a product that was loved by everybody, it's pretty likely they would have produced something closer to sangria. And while the Bud Light drinkers will most certainly always outnumber the scotch drinkers. I think the scotch drinkers are pretty okay with that. The key to the scotch brand has been its ability to create a band of loyal brand idealists. They attract and hold the kind of people who research the product and then talk about it. They actually seek out other loyalists just so they can compare notes. Time and consistency are glacial forces and they’ve carved out an indelible impression for this brand. There’s a flip side to that the coin as well, because we also have pretty clear idea of what the brand is not. Thankfully we’ll never have to endure the following:

1. A scotch "brand experience pavilion" at a Spring Break destination
2. Scotch-lite.
3. Fruit-flavored brand extensions.
4. A Single-Malt NASCAR
5. A scotch Cinco de Mayo promotional display

Like minted coins, a new batch of drinkers enters circulation every day. Some will stick to appletinis, Jaegerbombs and blush wines for the rest of their lives. Nobody in Scotland will miss them. The lesson scotch can teach us as marketers, is that not every customer can be our customer. And that's okay.

Delivering the brand in 4 minutes or less

I love sandwiches.

Admittedly however, I hate the process of actually making them. So I buy them. The other day I ordered a sandwich at my local Jimmie Johns. I challenge you to find a better 4-minute brand experience. I don’t think there was an employee in the place over the age of 21. They were smiling and laughing. Some were singing along to the radio. I had found a tribe of happy sandwich makers and they were earnestly toiling away on my customized Italian Night Club. I had just enough time to walk the ten feet to get my straw when a member of the tribe handed me my sandwich. It was wrapped up tight in its handsome paper wrapper. It felt so nice and heavy. My well-trained mouth filled with a Pavlovian drool response as soon I felt the heft of meat fill my hand. Like the many, many before it, I knew this sandwich was going to be great. Ultimately I keep going back because I really like their food... okay and I like the price. But here’s why I love Jimmie Johns, especially my Jimmie Johns. As the teen-punk hands me my sandwich he shoots me this smug little sideways glance and says:

“A number 9, no onions, with peps and sprouts? Nice call man… sorry ‘bout the wait.”

Freakishly fast sandwiches AND a side of swagger? That’s a heaping dose of brand payoff stuffed into less time than it takes to listen to most Led Zeppelin songs. They have earned my loyalty and my six bucks. See ya next week boys!