"Engineered for men": the rise of "Yorkie" advertising

The ADgenda: this week's most offensive advert.

IWC’s new advertising campaign has been released in cinemas, currently thundering over the big screen in all its majestic manly glory. I first saw it played before the new Bond film, so naturally I was already on edge for flippant sexism. However, the bulk of the advert has no problems (other than a failure to mention time-telling at any point). For the most part we are just enjoying fighter pilots swooping around and ships crashing through waves while IWC journey through their various partnerships. On the big screen, this drama makes us feel like we are all part of these journeys. But at the very end, we realise that we are not. The punchline is the final phrase “engineered for men”.

After watching soul-lightening accomplishments and adventures through seas and skies, this tagline really stings. There is a noticeable emphasis from the narrator on the “for men”, as if I have been slapped on the wrist for showing interest in something that isn’t compatible for my gender. I am reminded of the Yorkie bar’s advertising campaign “it’s not for girls!”, but that slogan only feels like a “no girls allowed” sign hung on the blanket fort built by your little brother (and anyway, serves more as reverse psychology than divisive marketing). This, however, feels like Grown-Up Sexism. They sell men’s watches, so they must be defined to be as masculine as possible, not just in their bulky style but in the images conveying male brawn so bold you can smell the sweating: fighter planes, boats in storms, diving barefoot with sharks – it all builds up to this brazen slogan “engineered for men”.

IWC know their market. You’re male? Good, you’ll be shooting guns through the sky and wrestling wild animals, you’ll need to tell time on something engineered. You’re female? Honey, you don’t need engineering. Here, have something decorated or fashioned. Have fun shopping, and stay away from Yorkie bars.

IWC’s new advertising campaign. Photograph: youtube.com
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Cabinet audit: what does the appointment of Andrea Leadsom as Environment Secretary mean for policy?

The political and policy-based implications of the new Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.

A little over a week into Andrea Leadsom’s new role as Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra), and senior industry figures are already questioning her credentials. A growing list of campaigners have called for her resignation, and even the Cabinet Office implied that her department's responsibilities will be downgraded.

So far, so bad.

The appointment would appear to be something of a consolation prize, coming just days after Leadsom pulled out of the Conservative leadership race and allowed Theresa May to enter No 10 unopposed.

Yet while Leadsom may have been able to twist the truth on her CV in the City, no amount of tampering will improve the agriculture-related side to her record: one barely exists. In fact, recent statements made on the subject have only added to her reputation for vacuous opinion: “It would make so much more sense if those with the big fields do the sheep, and those with the hill farms do the butterflies,” she told an audience assembled for a referendum debate. No matter the livelihoods of thousands of the UK’s hilltop sheep farmers, then? No need for butterflies outside of national parks?

Normally such a lack of experience is unsurprising. The department has gained a reputation as something of a ministerial backwater; a useful place to send problematic colleagues for some sobering time-out.

But these are not normal times.

As Brexit negotiations unfold, Defra will be central to establishing new, domestic policies for UK food and farming; sectors worth around £108bn to the economy and responsible for employing one in eight of the population.

In this context, Leadsom’s appointment seems, at best, a misguided attempt to make the architects of Brexit either live up to their promises or be seen to fail in the attempt.

At worst, May might actually think she is a good fit for the job. Leadsom’s one, water-tight credential – her commitment to opposing restraints on industry – certainly has its upsides for a Prime Minister in need of an alternative to the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy (CAP); a policy responsible for around 40 per cent the entire EU budget.

Why not leave such a daunting task in the hands of someone with an instinct for “abolishing” subsidies  thus freeing up money to spend elsewhere?

As with most things to do with the EU, CAP has some major cons and some equally compelling pros. Take the fact that 80 per cent of CAP aid is paid out to the richest 25 per cent of farmers (most of whom are either landed gentry or vast, industrialised, mega-farmers). But then offset this against the provision of vital lifelines for some of the UK’s most conscientious, local and insecure of food producers.

The NFU told the New Statesman that there are many issues in need of urgent attention; from an improved Basic Payment Scheme, to guarantees for agri-environment funding, and a commitment to the 25-year TB eradication strategy. But that they also hope, above all, “that Mrs Leadsom will champion British food and farming. Our industry has a great story to tell”.

The construction of a new domestic agricultural policy is a once-in-a-generation opportunity for Britain to truly decide where its priorities for food and environment lie, as well as to which kind of farmers (as well as which countries) it wants to delegate their delivery.

In the context of so much uncertainty and such great opportunity, Leadsom has a tough job ahead of her. And no amount of “speaking as a mother” will change that.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.