• Rotman Management: Brand U, Why Branding Yourself Makes Sense
• Investment Executive: Brands are for people, too
• Toronto Star: Carol Goar on the need for prepared remarks
• Globe and Mail: Christopher Plummer, mum, and me
• ROB-TV: Julia Moulden talks about personal branding
• CITY-TV: Julia Moulden talks about election advertising

Outside The Box
Brands are for people, too
By Lara Hertel

Rilla Clark, a Toronto-based executive coach, hopes the tag line "lasting change" will create an identity for her business, as "Just do it" has for Nike and "You deserve a break today" has for McDonald's.

The tag line is the latest creative effort by Clark, who is trying to emulate the marketing smarts of the masters in selling her services internationally. One of a growing legion of professionals who are making the transformation to their own brands, Clark has launched her very own "Me Inc.".

Branding, once used to create product awareness through a name or logo, has reached new heights in shaping the way consumers view the wide array of products and services from which they can choose. Today, a brand name conveys much more than just a product on the market; it presents a desire lifestyle, attitude or belief. Nike's "Just do it" campaign, for instance, doesn't just promote athletic gear; it also offers consumers the promise of a healthy lifestyle and the persona of someone who takes an active approach to life.

Now that idea is being extended to people who, like Clark, provide a marketable service. When the 56-year-old psychotherapist began working as an executive coach in 1996, she quickly realized her skills alone wouldn't set her apart in an already crowded marketplace. "I thought about myself as a consumer looking for a coach would, and how I'd find the right person to meet that need," she says. "It became apparent that I had to be really clear about what I had to offer."

Clark explained her situation to Julia Moulden, president and CEO of The Bee's Knees Communications Inc. in Toronto. The pair had met at a creativity workshop, and last summer they developed a working relationship to help Clark distinguish herself from a throng of other professionals. The proposed solution? Turn her into a brand name.

"The strength of branding is it gives people a way to think of themselves and what their values are," says Moulden. "A good brand isn't just an image; it's substance. It's a promise of value."

Clark's branding efforts began with an examination of her "core values", the attributes with which she most identifies: honesty, curiosity for learning, and optimism, to name a few. Next, she looked at the things she does best, followed by how those skills could benefit a consumer. Clark decided that, as an executive coach, her strength is in helping clients increase their awareness of their current behavioural practices so they can sustain change. Fittingly, the slogan that appears on her business card and stationery reads: "Lasting change: for people and teams in transition, a change process that lasts."

The importance of a brand in the minds of consumers should never be ignored.. When Coca-Cola attempted to re-energize its brand by introducing "New Coke" in 1985, no one predicted the public outcry. Thousands of loyal Coca-Cola drinkers called in protest.

Market research showed cola drinkers actually preferred a taste similar to that of the new drink. What marketers failed to recognize, however, was that they were tampering with the world's most beloved brand names. It seemed no-one was eager to part with the original Coca-Cola ­ and all the perceived American values that went along with it ­ for a new flavour, no matter how good it tasted.

Coca-Cola executives got the message, and less than 80 days later, they reintroduced Coca-Cola Classic to a nation that embraced it enthusiastically. Today, the company calls the debacle "an intelligent risk" that revolutionized the soft-drink industry.

What happened at Coca-Cola proves that consumers play just as large a role in the making of a brand as the company that creates it. As big as a brand name can become, Moulden says, it has limitations. "The big risk," she warns, "is doing something completely different from your core identity."

A brand has three main components, say Moulden and David Dunne, adjunct professor of marketing at the University of Toronto, in an article entitled "Brand U: Why branding yourself makes sense", in Rotman Management magazine's Fall 2003 issue: o The core identity refers to the unchanging part of a personal brand, and must accurately depict what or who the brand is. The extended identity looks at what the brand can offer outside of what is immediately evident. For instance, Kraft has built a name that conveys an image of convenient, consistent-quality, reasonably priced food. Now, the company is addressing the rise of obesity in an ongoing campaign that includes providing nutritional information on its products, advocating health and fitness education in schools, and capping the size of its single-portion products. o The third component is the brand's potential identity ­ the future direction a brand can take, given its core identity. Consider Dove soap, for example. The well-known beauty bar, which boasts "one-quarter moisturizer", made it possible for its manufacturer to launch its current skin- and hair-care product line. Still, a brand extension must adhere to the brand's core values. It's unlikely a name such as Dove, which emphasizes gentle personal-care products, would introduce an abrasive detergent.

That's not to say companies haven't tried to extend their brand past certain limitations. Bic, the manufacturer best known for its disposable pens, razors and lighters, failed to compete in the perfume market in the late 80's because consumers associated the brand with affordability and convenience ­ positive attributes for razors but not for fragrances, Dunne and Moulden note.

"A brand is really all about what you stand for," says Sharon McAuley, director of brand marketing in Toronto at Transcontinental Media, the media arm of Transcontinental G.P., which publishes Investment Executive.

In the publishing industry, magazines and newspapers connect to their readers through editorial content. Transcontinental's Canadian Living magazine has branded itself with the slogan "Smart solutions for everyday living", targeted at women aged 25 to 54. An extension of the brand includes a Web site, special edition cookbooks and sponsored televised health segments.

Moulden warns that the most successful brands, whether they represent a person of product, are those that don't necessarily scream out a message. "The world has been overbranded, so your message has to be subtle," she says. "The best brands are organic."

So why the push to become a brand in a world already awash in logos?

Moulden offers one good reason: branding is crucial in setting yourself apart. "People need to achieve their goals in a competitive market", she says.

The next step in Clark's transformation into her own brand will be to launch her personal Web site. She's comfortable in her role as a branded professional, a position she credits to her brand's accurate reflection of who she is.

"I'm not going to bend out of my comfort zone to meet the needs of a customer who doesn't feel right," she says. "That's the benefit of a brand. You can be clear about what you will do and what you won't."

Toronto Star
By Carol Goar

He makes it look effortless

Few politicians are as quick with a quip or secure in the spotlight as Jack Layton.

The leader of the New Democratic Party can speak without notes, extemporize without stumbling and deflect awkward questions without hostility.

There is one slight problem. He's so good at winging it that he has a tendency to skimp on preparation.

Twice in the past week, the NDP leader delivered important public speeches in Toronto. Both were entertaining, but unfocused.

His first address was to a roomful of policy-makers, academics, diplomats and journalists at a lunch organized by the Institute for Research on Public Policy. It was an ideal opportunity to highlight his party's platform and show that the political left is capable of disciplined, innovative thinking.

Instead, Layton flitted from issue to issue. He touched on global warming, the importance of investing in cities, the future of the auto industry, the need to overhaul the electoral system and the realignment of Canada's right wing parties.

His speech contained some memorable lines. "I have long lusted after the name Progressive," he said, referring to the proposed merger between the Progressive Conservative party and the Canadian Alliance. "I hope they jettison it so we can take it on."

But Layton had no unifying theme. He made sloppy mistakes. (He said the unemployment rate was at a 40-year high. In fact, it stands at 8 per cent, well below the 14 per cent it reached in 1983.) He didn't deal with any topic in enough depth to convince listeners that his party had practical, affordable policies.

Two days later, Layton spoke at a Rotary Club luncheon at the Royal York Hotel. His audience consisted of about 120 business people. Many knew Layton well. He had been a member of the club from 1994 to 1998.

Again, he performed without a script. Again, his delivery was impressive. His jokes were well timed, his anecdotes touching. But something was missing; that extra bit of heft that turns a fine presentation into a persuasive argument.

Layton talked about the need to restore public services such as home care, post-secondary education and urban transit. He reminded Rotarians of some of his local achievements; Toronto's first wind turbine and the retrofitting of hundreds of schools. And he predicted that the era of tax cuts was nearing its end.

"I think we can actually turn the country around," he said. "I am gong to ask for a society-wide debate about our values."

There was the germ of a compelling message in his address. Had he fleshed it out with cost-effective proposals to improve Canadians' quality of life, he might have left people thinking, not just clapping.

It's not as if the NDP lacks ideas. Since Layton has become leader in January, it has developed some solid, well-researched policies.

Its auto strategy, for example, is much more creative than anything put forward by the Liberals or the provincial premiers. Rather than using government handouts to stem the decline of the auto industry, the NDP says, Ottawa should employ tax incentives, environmental regulations, and research grants to make Canada a world leader in alternative fuels.

Similarly, its smog reduction strategy is worth examining. The NDP proposed a National Environmental Infrastructure Investment Program to upgrade municipal water and sewage treatment plants, improve recycling, recover wasted energy, retrofit public buildings, and create thousands of sustainable jobs.

These programs don't lend themselves to 30-second television clips. But Layton has already proved that he can command media attention. He needs the kind of credibility that doesn't come from press scrums or publicity stunts.

Now is the ideal time to earn it. The Liberals are too preoccupied with their succession problems to concentrate on their election platform. The Canadian Alliance and the Tories won't even be in a position to think about policy until they¹ve decided whether to merge and chosen a leader.

While his opponents sort out their internal affairs, Layton has a chance to engage Canadians in a substantive debate about the country's future. While his right-wing rivals attempt to consummate their marriage of convenience, he has an opportunity to show that there is fresh thinking on the left.

The dividends would be appreciable. Although the NDP has little realistic hope of leapfrogging from fourth place to Official Opposition in the next election, it could play a pivotal role in Canada's 38th Parliament.

Incoming Prime Minister Paul Martin has been open to Layton's environmental initiatives in the past. The Liberals have looked to the left for policy ideas before.

But the New Democrats have to demonstrate that they are a serious, sophisticated urban party.

Layton understands the challenge. But he is like a kid who's always been able to ace an exam without studying.

This time, a little homework would be in order.

An audience with a thespian king

Meeting with Christopher Plummer after a performance of
King Lear briefly brought back my mother's youth.

By JULIA MOULDEN

Globe and Mail
November 28, 2002

"Christopher is doing King Lear at Stratford, and I'd like us to go." That's how Mum put it when she canvassed her children for our interest in joining her.

This was no ordinary query. If not quite Lear's test of his daughter's love, it was certainly much more than an evening at the theatre. Christopher Plummer was a persistent ghost in our home. In the early 1950s, my parents were part of a circle of artists and journalists with the CBC at its hub. Christopher was the baby of the group, but always played a starring role in Mum and Dad's stories about parties with lots of drink and passionate singing around the piano. Of course we would go to Stratford.

The big day finally arrived and, like Lear, we faced a dramatic storm. The first snowfall of the year delayed us, and we missed the curtain. As we stood watching the opening acts on the lobby monitor, I asked Mum if we were going backstage. "You know, I never heard from him."

At a break in the performance, we were ushered to our seats on tiptoe. And then, there he was -- older, but still an impressive figure at centre stage. He quickly had us leaning forward in our seats, eager for every word and gesture.

At intermission, I went looking for the house manager, explained the history, and asked if we might go backstage. He promised to contact the stage manager, who would inquire with "Mr. Plummer." I checked back just as the house lights signalled the performance would soon resume. "Meet him at the stage door," was all he could offer.

"Well," my mother said icily when I returned. "I think not." Fair enough.

We settled into our seats and got lost again in the tragic story of a man whose family breaks apart, who fears the loss of control that can come with age, and who longs to know he is still loved. The actors won our hearts. After a standing ovation, Christopher walked off stage with arms outstretched, capturing the energy of our applause in his own elegant hands. I leaned over and said to Mum, "Oh, let's do it!"

Hoping that the sight of my seventy-something mother, her eye blackened by a recent fall, would move the stage manager -- perhaps by bringing the blinding of Gloucester to mind? -- I made one more attempt. He stood his ground, but offered gently, "There's a waiting area. You won't be standing in the snow."

Mum and I descended the stairs outside the lobby, crossed the loading ramp, and joined a small, excited group. A wave of departing actors greeted us with unaffected faces and warm appreciation for our murmured bravos. Calling out "Good night!" to one another, they seemed less like celebrities than a group of bus drivers just off shift, out of uniform, and eager to get home.

We stood quietly for a moment, close to the stage door. People trickled by. Then, an old man in a sweater and a fleece scarf was nearly past us when I recognized him. "Christopher Plummer, I'm Julia Moulden, and this is my mother, Dollie." "Oh, yes, the note," he replied.

And then my mother and this man from her past stood as closely together as they might have 50 years ago, talking quietly. Too soon, a gangly young man with an autograph book in his hand pressed forward. "Mr. Plummer, I saw your performance this evening." And the moment was over.

Outside, I asked, "What did he say?" Mum said that his first words were the very gracious, "Remind me," and that they'd simply reminisced about old friends, some of whom -- including my father -- were no longer living. Then, we hugged. She cried a little, and thanked me for being so persistent. "I don't like the word 'closure,' but I guess that's what this is."

Holding her in the shadows of the Festival Theatre, as the snow fell softly all around us, she was no longer my mother. She was the pretty young woman who moved to the city to follow her dreams. Who met an exciting group of smart and talented people. Who married one of them, and started a family. In that instant, as I watched her look back on her life and take its measure, I felt I knew her for the first time.

And then, she was all Mum once more. "We'd better rejoin the others, dear. Watch yourself on the stairs, they're slippery."