HOISTING THE JOLLY JOHN HAYDOCK This is the time of year when so many of my whisky-writing colleagues tell me that they like nothing better than to spend the afternoons—after enjoying a wonderful lunch at someone-else’s expense—cleaning their Purdeys before their annual hike north to join various distillers (past and present) in their annual blood-fest on the moors. Hospitality in the whisky industry is a wonderful thing—those close to the industry enjoy it, and value it, immensely. It is a trademark of how things should be done properly—the last bastion of a traditional way of doing business that is increasingly threatened by the corporate correctness that is infusing all business and businesses. But what value, I wonder, does this hospitality give back to the trade – surely a question that pen, rather than Purdey, toting accountants must increasingly ask their masters. And by the same token, what value, I sometimes wonder, does the industry get back from its more public hospitality, those sponsorships that can be found listed in ever lengthening pages in Alan Gray’s invaluable Scotch Whisky Industry Review. I pondered thus in July of this year as I joined a motley crew of journalists and film-crews from around the world, whisky apparatchiks and sailors of all ages (from, I reckoned, about five years old to eighty) on the Classic Malts Cruise, sailing from Craobh Haven near Oban to Talisker and then, by way of Oban (without which no West Highland cruise would be complete) to Lagavulin. With almost two hundred boats and nearly a thousand participants this was an event of massive proportions. Hyperbole fails me—almost— but think of a fleet larger than the Spanish Armada (probably), or an assembly of boats in Lagavulin bay (many, if I recall, aground on the rocky and narrow entrance) greater than that assembled by the men of Islay to sail to the support of Robert the Bruce on the mainland, and you begin to get a picture of the scale of the thing. At Talisker we found a tented village that would not have disgraced a rock-festival. Throughout the fortnight we appeared to deplete the West Coast of almost its entire diesel supply (for there was barely a breeze to be found at sea) and its stocks of oysters and langoustine. Distillery staff dispensed hospitality, in generous yet sensible proportions, wherever we went, with a good humour that was quite remarkable. And yet, I had to ask, pinching myself once more against the fear that the Mediterranean weather we experienced might be a mirage, why all the effort? What benefit the hospitality? Alan Gray estimates that the Scotch Whisky industry spends annually more than £100 million pounds on sponsorship in Scotland (in addition to which who knows how much is spent in the local economy on support and services). Much of this is locally focused— Bowmore’s contribution to their local community is well known and much appreciated, and Macallan similarly invests considerably in very focused sponsorships on Speyside. The value here? Well, partly I would imagine the feel-good factor merged with a bit of the ‘we’re the local Laird’ mentality. But brand building—the sine-qua-non of the measurement of sponsorship? Limited at best. Culture and ‘heritage’ [what is this?— all answers on a postcard please!] also rank large—Glenfiddich sponsor both fiddle and piping championships, Macallan sponsors Scottish Writing, the Classic Malts were associated with the Highland Folk Festival. But these events ultimately talk to a limited community, and in terms of single malts, seem in many instances to get further and further away from the distilleries and the people who make the product. For consumers, and for journalists, this is ultimately the key point of interest, and this is surely where companies can see potential returns on their investment. And to be honest this is where an event like the Classic Malts Cruise (and the related Classic Malts Car Rally) seems to win hands down. Even the most cynical of journalists couldn’t fail to be impressed by what they experienced. And this of course is what this event, and others like it offer; it’s an experiential sponsorship—once done, never forgotten. And it’s focused on a destination distillery—the place that so many lovers of single-malt Scotch ultimately build their relationship with. I often suspect that sponsorships are chosen less on the basis of the value they might deliver, and more on whether or not they involve areas of interest shared by senior company executives. So, moving on to blended Scotch—who was the snow-boarder at Ballantine’s who instigated my favourite whisky event, the famous (but now abandoned?) snow-boarding challenge? Aspirational sponsorships in overseas markets, the marketeers cry! Fashion, fusion music, golf (and golf and golf and golf)—millions are poured into such events in Europe, Asia, and Latin America. TV coverage allows spurious mathematics to show ‘value’ in the events, but one really has to question the relevance or long-term benefit of what might be called ‘wishful thinking’ sponsorship. ‘If we sponsor snowboarding our brand will be perceived as young, energetic and vital’. Hmmm – I don’t think so! And even outstanding sponsorships for blended Scotch have the risk of running away from their sponsors. I would imagine that the Cutty Sark sponsorship of the Tall Ships Race—a perfect fit if ever there was one, is in danger of being thoroughly ‘hoovered’, as Cutty Sark is now known more for the race, and the tall ships, than the blended whisky. So what of sponsorships ? Well, for sure they will not go away. Goodwill on the part of distillers, genuine local and community need for financial support, cultural blackmail and the ‘heritage’ card, the enthusiasm of senior managers and directors—and the occasional good idea—will all continue to ensure that distillers of single malt whisky and the producers of blended Scotch will continue to pour millions into Scotland, and into events overseas. But all of this in support of brands, the bane of the whisky-purists vocabulary. So what of generic sponsorship? Alan Gray, with an insouciant naivete, has advocated for years that the industry should club together to sponsor a remake of Whisky Galore. I can’t help thinking, as the branded shooting brakes make their way to the butts, that Reservoir Dogs might be a more suitable case for treatment.