THE RANT Johanne

What rises, The pandemic may have put paid to whisky brand ambassadors and the industry will be much poorer without them Written by Johanne McInnis MUST ALSO FALL

Rule of thumb: Don’t start a conversation with ‘No offence but’, yet here I am once again. I glide in to host masterclasses, interview the likes of master blenders, international brand ambassadors and from time to time put a good story to paper – well screen, who still writes on paper?

But amidst the headlines and stories I hear, I inevitably feel the elasticity of my patience snap and off goes the little muse that lives somewhere in the dark recess of my psyche – a middle aged man with a crumpled suit and disheveled hair (think Boris Johnson but much smarter) and… the rant is born. If you remember 1995 and drank whisky like I did, you likely recollect your fi rst whisky festival. Otherwise get in the whisky time machine and strap in...

Scripted, trained soulless individuals that likely don’t know how to pronounce Auchentoshan

It’s 1995, and a college mate purchased whisky festival tickets and gave me one as a birthday gift. It was odd at the time – a whisky what? We were ushered into a large ballroom-type setting where 15-20 people were standing behind tables borrowed from gardens and basements. There were no banners, gimmicks, decorations or even tablecloths, just middle-aged tweed jacket-wearing tasting club volunteers pouring whiskies for 100 ticket holders. To the best of my recollection – a ‘brand ambassador’ did not exist.

Fast forward to 2010 and there are no more rickety card tables. Epic whisky festivals are now taking place worldwide, with tickets selling out within minutes. These festivals include brand ambassadors, marketing galore, luxurious grand gala masterclasses, a travelling fi eld of barley (I kid you not), banners, exquisite/rare bottles and 500-800 people stumbling back to their hotel room with their free Glencairn.

Clearly the conglomerates running the whisky industry saw the opportunity to fi ll their pockets and began working their brand ambassadors to sheer exhaustion. Many of these hardy souls spent 200-225 days a year living out of a suitcase – you know: 7am fl ight to Taiwan, arrive at event, pour latest greatest whiskies, spew marketing spin/stories, shake hands, take photos, meet with reps/importers, fi nally get a late bite to eat, drink a few with ‘handlers’ and get delivered to hotel door only to wake up for the 4:30am ride back to the airport to head to the next destination. Sounds glamorous right?

The next stop in our whisky time machine is January 2020. Videographers pose brand ambassadors so their stellar Instagram accounts are fi lled with Photoshopped bottle shots in fantastic locations for their 43K followers to admire while lighting up the faces of the executives around the corporate whisky boardroom tables. But wait… In March 2020, a global pandemic brings it all to a screeching halt. In the UK alone the majority of whisky entities shutter their doors and furlough over 12,000 employees.

All you can hear now is the sound of the penny dropping. In the UK, four companies dominate whisky production and their sales rose by 30% within the fi rst eight months of the pandemic. Wait, people are buying whisky without all the fanfare? Hello HR – could you please get our brand ambassadors on the phone?

The conversations went like this: ‘Let’s discuss your contract, we no longer need you to travel or attend whisky events but still want to use your social media to our advantage, oh and as you don’t have to travel your salary is cut by 80%.’

By March 2021 hundreds of whisky ambassadors have disappeared. Many left quietly while others posted messages of parting ‘amicably’. So, are you following along here?

So, I’m stating this here and now: brand ambassadors are going the way of the dodo bird. In 2023, when you pay £200 to walk into that big lovely ballroom converted into whisky Shangri-La, look who is standing behind the tables pouring and talking. I can almost guarantee you’ll hear titles such as key account manager or brand activation champion, the new buzzwords. ‘Personnel’ at functions that can represent any brand. Scripted, trained soulless individuals that likely don’t know how to pronounce Auchentoshan or Bunnahabhain ?

Now I’m not daft. I get that these companies see huge cost saving measures. But isn’t it funny how greed and the ‘cost of doing business’ is leading to unreachable prices, poor quality whisky and now programmed puppets who passed the weekend ‘brand activation manager’ class? Brand ambassadors were manufactured by the bigwigs but they became the faces we know and trust. As a long time whisky enthusiast, if I’m going to pay that much money for a ticket, I’d much rather be in a roomful of passionate whisky people that are just as knowledgeable behind the stand as they are in front.

I think the fall of the brand ambassador has kicked the door off its hinges and the whisky industry is hammering yet another nail in their coffi ns.

No offence, but… there, I said it...