Sponsored advertorial - It pays to advertise, but not enough to revive Britain

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House of Commons, 25 March 2013, 6pm

For the motion

Laurence Green, founding partner, 101 London

Luke Owen, student of advertising, London College of Communication

Against the motion

Sam Blackie, Deloitte

Max Lehner, student of advertising, London College of Communication

The UK economy is in a hole. We’ve lost our triple-A credit rating, the Budget deficit is rising and growth remains stagnant – leading many commentators, including the New Statesman’s economics editor, David Blanchflower, to believe that we are in a triple-dip recession. And as the commentators often stress, we need to find a strong and effective cure for our economic woes – and we need to find it fast.

Could advertising hold the key? This might appear to be a tall order. After all, it is a particularly deep hole the Chancellor has dug for us and there is only so much that a few television and display adverts can offer. On closer inspection, however, it would seem this is a question worth asking – particularly when the results from a recent study by Deloitte are taken into account.

The research, conducted on behalf of the Advertising Association, set out to quantify and qualify the economic effects of the £16bn spent on advertising in the UK every year. Using data from 17 countries over a 14-year period, Deloitte was able to demonstrate that, for every £1 spent on advertising, £6 was generated for the economy – something that amounted to a £100bn effect on total GDP, and which led the report authors to write: “We need to think differently about advertising – as an industry, important in its own right, but also as a business activity, and a fundamental driver of UK competitiveness.”

Is this an accurate view or is it the case that the industry has fallen for its own spin? To put it to the test, the New Statesman and the Advertising Association gathered a mix of the UK’s top creative and analytical thinkers, as well as emerging talent from the London College of Communication, for a House of Commons debate: “It pays to advertise but not enough to revive Britain.”

The first person to speak was Laurence Green of the 101 London advertising agency. Arguing for the motion, he opened with a reference to some of the hugely successful advertising campaigns he has worked on, such as the Skoda “It’s a Skoda, honest” and “Cake” adverts; the Cadbury’s drumming gorilla; and the Sony ad that featured coloured balls bouncing down the streets of San Francisco to mark the arrival of its Bravia LCD range. However, while one can’t dispute the value of these advertising campaigns for the companies in question, Green felt they did little to stimulate the economy.

“We didn’t sell a car to anyone who wasn’t already in the market for a car,” he reflected. “And even though Sony had to build a new factory to cope with demand, it was the collapse of the price that was driving market growth – we were simply harvesting a share of that market.”

In Green’s view, advertising supports individual organisations, and those alone, because most companies use advertising to preserve higher pricing structures rather than create demand. Therefore, he said, the role advertising has to play in reviving the British economy is limited: “When faced with a similar tough economic environment, President Roosevelt did not build a brand, he built bridges. I suspect bridges are a better way to build Britain.”

This idea that investing in infrastruc-ture offers a viable way out of our economic mire was not disputed by the next speaker, Sam Blackie of Deloitte. He agreed that it was hugely important to get the country spending.

“There is consensus in the UK and ­Europe about needing to use economic growth and spending to get us out of this mess,” he said. “We need to grow markets to escape our malaise and advertising is fundamental to doing that.”

Blackie referred to advertising as a “Darwinian process that improves products, brings people together, matches buyers with sellers, and creates markets that otherwise wouldn’t exist”. For evidence of what this means in practice, readers should turn to the aforementioned Advertising Pays report, which demonstrates how advertising facilitates competition through price promotion, product differentiation and innovation, which in turn helps new entrants to penetrate markets. Take broadband advertising, which Deloitte estimates is responsible for 36 per cent of take-up in UK households; or the £200m savings on schoolwear that parents benefited from in 2010, “thanks to supermarkets advertising their intense price wars”.

Advertising also enables the digital economy by providing funding for free search activities, social media, instant messaging and most websites, which in turn provide £5bn in value to customers. And let us not forget the social contribution of advertising such as the government campaign “Don’t Advertise Your Stuff to Thieves”, which reduced the cost of crime by £189m.

Indeed, the findings of the Deloitte report are supported by other studies, such as a McKinsey paper, published in March 2012, which concluded that advertising is an economic growth engine that accounts for 15 per cent of GDP growth across the G20 economies; and Leo Burnett’s research into the effect of the Department for Transport’s drink-driving campaigns, which stated that over a 30-year period “this relentless pursuit of potential drink-drivers saved almost 2,000 lives, prevented more than 10,000 serious injuries, and created a value to society of £3bn”.

Nonetheless, doubts were raised about the value of relying on a sector that encourages consumerism in order to help any country recover from a debt crisis. As Luke Owen, a student at the London College of Communication, argued: “How can an industry that encourages people to spend bring us back from this [crisis], when it is this [debt] that got us here to start with?”

Owen also felt that advertising was becoming increasingly irrelevant as “people don’t watch adverts any more”. “The harder advertisers strive to get attention, the more annoying they become,” he said. “Dave Trott [founder of the Gate advertising agency] said 90 per cent of ads are invisible. Ninety per cent is far too high a fail rate for an industry capable of saving an economy.”

Max Lehner, however, wasn’t convin­ced of this argument. Also a student of advertising at the London College of Communication, he said that regardless of how ineffective some may consider ­advertising to be, in the main it still works. He referred to the case of Nike, which, in the early 1990s when everyone was cutting back on advertising spend, did the opposite.

“They did something different to what everyone else was doing. Instead of saving money, they spent even more money on building their brand. Recognition is now 900 per cent higher than when it [the campaign] began.”

But the main focus of this debate was not on how effective advertising may or may not be in terms of brand awareness. It was on whether the advertising industry could provide a much-needed boost to the UK economy. And on that issue, the house was united in favour of the motion.

It is not advertising that is going to revive the economy, it was argued, but better, stronger manufacturing – “We’ve sold our gold reserves, water companies, air-traffic control, Land Rover, Jaguar and Rolls-Royce. When we want new railways we go to Germany; when we want new power stations we go to France,” was one comment. “Our economy is at the mercy of politics” was another, highlighting the proposed merger between BAE Systems and EADS, which failed as following intervention by the German government: “No amount of advertising would have closed that deal.”

Meanwhile another guest blamed the advertising industry for not stepping up to the plate. If an advert can result in a product selling out almost immediately – such as the M&S ad for a chocolate pudding that sold out within 48 hours – then the reason why advertising is “failing to lift us out of recession is that advertisers aren’t good enough”, she said.

The debate closed with Sam Blackie attempting to rebut some of these sensible comments. “The point was made that, if no one has any money, how can they spend it? Well, if you don’t tell people about a product how are they going to buy it?” he retorted.

“We can’t advertise our way out of trouble, but equally we can’t get out of trouble if we don’t advertise.”

Persuasive as he may have been, it was not enough to turn the house, and when it came to the final vote it was overwhelmingly in favour of the motion. Advertising, it would seem, does pay – just not enough to revive our economy.

Sponsored content from Advertising Association. For further details about advertising’s economic impact please go to www.adassoc.org.uk/advertising-pays

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"Michael Gove is a nasty bit of work": A Thatcherite's lonely crusade for technical colleges

Kenneth Baker, Margaret Thatcher's education secretary, has been in a war of words with one of his successors. 

When I meet Kenneth Baker, once Margaret Thatcher’s reforming education secretary, conversation quickly turns to an unexpected coincidence. We are old boys of the same school: a sixth-form college in Southport that was, in Baker’s day, the local grammar. Fittingly for a man enraged by the exclusion of technical subjects from the modern curriculum, he can only recall one lesson: carpentry.

Seven decades on, Lord Baker – who counts Sats, the national curriculum, league tables, and student loans among his innovations – is still preoccupied with technical education. His charity, the Baker Dearing Educational Trust, oversees university technical colleges (UTCs), the specialist free schools that work with businesses and higher education institutions to provide a vocational curriculum for students aged 14-19. He is also a working peer, and a doughty evangelist for technical education and apprenticeships in the upper chamber. 

But when we meet at the charity’s glass-panelled Westminster office at 4 Millbank, he is on the defensive – and with good reason. Recent weeks have been particularly unkind to the project that, aged 82, he still works full-time to promote. First, a technical college in Oldham, Greater Manchester, became the seventh to close its doors since 2015. In three years, not one of its pupils passed a single GCSE, and locals complained it had become a “dumping ground” for the most troubled and disruptive children from Oldham’s other schools (Baker agrees, and puts the closure down to “bad governorship and bad headship”). 

Then, with customary chutzpah, came Michael Gove. In the week of the closure, the former education secretary declared in his Times column that the UTCs project had failed. "The commonest error in politics," he wrote, quoting Lord Salisbury, "is sticking to the carcasses of dead policies". Baker is now embroiled in a remarkable – and increasingly bitter – war of words with his successor and one-time colleague.

It wasn't always this way. In 2013, with UTCs still in their infancy, he told the New Statesman the then education secretary was “a friend”, despite their disagreements on the curriculum. The bonhomie has not lasted. In the course of our hour-long conversation, Gove is derided as “a nasty bit of work”, “very vindictive”, “completely out of touch”, and “Brutus Gove and all the rest of it”. (Three days after we speak, Baker renews their animus with a blistering op-ed for The Telegraph, claiming Gove embraced UTCs about as warmly as “an undertaker”.)

In all of this, Gove, who speaks warmly of Baker, has presented himself as having been initially supportive of the project. He was, after all, the education secretary who gave them the green light. Not so, his one-time colleague says. While David Cameron (Baker's former PA) and George Osborne showed pragmatic enthusiasm, Gove “was pretty reluctant from the word go”.

“Gove has his own theory of education,” Baker tells me. He believes Gove is in thrall to the American educationalist E.D. Hirsch, who believes in focusing on offering children a core academic diet of subjects, whatever their background. "He doesn’t think that schools should worry about employability at all," Baker says. "He thinks as long as you get the basic education right, everything will be fine. That isn’t going to happen – it isn’t how life works!" 

Baker is fond of comparing Gove’s heavily academic English baccalaureate to the similarly narrow School Certificate he sat in 1951, as well as the curriculum of 1904 (there is seldom an interview with Baker that doesn’t feature this comparison). He believes his junior's divisive tenure changed the state sector for the worse: “It’s appalling what’s happening in our schools! The squeezing out of not only design and technology, but drama, music, art – they’re all going down at GCSE, year by year. Now children are just studying a basic eight subjects. I think that’s completely wrong.” 

UTCs, with their university sponsors, workplace ethos (teaching hours coincide with the standard 9-5 working day and pupils wear business dress), and specialist curricula, are Baker's solution. The 46 existing institutions teach 11,500 children, and there are several notable success stories. GCHQ has opened a cyber-security suite at the UTC in Scarborough, North Yorkshire, as part of a bid to diversify its workforce. Just 0.5 per cent of UTC graduates are unemployed, compared to 11.5 per cent of all 18-year-olds. 

But they are not without their critics. Teaching unions have complained that their presence fragments education provision and funding, and others point out that hard-up schools in disadvantaged areas have little desire or incentive to give up children – and the funding they bring – at 14. Ofsted rate twice as many UTCs as inadequate as they do outstanding. Gove doubts that the vocational qualifications on offer are as robust as their academic equivalents, or anywhere near as attractive for middle-class parents. He also considers 14 is too young an age for pupils to pursue a specialist course of vocational study.

Baker accepts that many of his colleges are seen as “useless, wastes of money, monuments to Baker’s vanity and all the rest of it”, but maintains the project is only just finding its legs. He is more hopeful about the current education secretary, Justine Greening, who he believes is an admirer. Indeed, UTCs could provide Greening with a trump card in the vexed debate over grammar schools – last year’s green paper suggested pupils would be able to join new selective institutions at 14, and Baker has long believed specialist academic institutions should complement UTCs.

Discussion of Theresa May’s education policy has tended to start and finish at grammar schools. But Baker believes the conversation could soon be dominated by a much more pressing issue: the financial collapse of multi-academy trusts and the prospect of an NHS-style funding crisis blighting the nation’s schools. Although his city technology colleges may have paved the way for the removal of more and more schools from the control of local authorities, he, perhaps surprisingly, defends a connection to the state.

“What is missing now in the whole education system is that broker in the middle, to balance the demands of education with the funds available," he says. "I think by 2020 all these multi-academy trusts will be like the hospitals... If MATs get into trouble, their immediate cry will be: ‘We need more money!’ We need more teachers, we need more resources, and all the rest of it!’."

It is clear that he is more alert to coming challenges, such as automation, than many politicians half his age. Halfway through our conversation, he leaves the room and returns enthusiastically toting a picture of an driverless lorry. It transpires that this Thatcherite is even increasingly receptive to the idea of the ultimate state handout: a universal basic income. “There’s one part of me that says: ‘How awful to give someone a sum for doing nothing! What are they going to do, for heaven’s sake, for Christ’s sake!’" he says. "But on the other hand, I think the drawback to the four-day working week or four-hour working day... I think it’s going to happen in your lifetime. If people are only working for a very short space of time, they will have to have some sort of basic income.” 

Predictably, the upshot of this vignette is that his beloved UTCs and their multi-skilled graduates are part of the solution. Friend and foe alike praise Baker’s indefatigable dedication to the cause. But, with the ranks of doubters growing and the axe likely to fall on at least one of its institutions again, it remains to be seen in what form the programme will survive.

Despite the ignominy of the last few weeks, however, Baker is typically forthright: “I sense a turning of the tide in our way now. But I still fight. I fight for every bloody one.”