What went through Orson Welles’s mind, I wonder, when he first growled the line “Probably the best lager in the world” into a microphone? He may have been pondering his fee. He may have reflected on how well suited his distinctive gravelly voice was to the slogan’s understated confidence. It may have made him fancy a drink. It probably didn’t make him think that Carlsberg was probably the best lager in the world, because it probably isn’t. And last week its manufacturers admitted it.
In fact, they launched a new slogan: “Probably not the best beer in the world. So we’ve changed it.” This marketing admission raises a few questions, the first of which is: “How likely is it to be the best this time?” I mean, they’ve been calling their previous version “probably the best” for 46 years. It doesn’t feel like they’re adherents to a rigorously self-doubting approach to product development.
Other questions include: “How long have they been thinking this?”, “Do they now think it was probably never the best beer in the world, or that it probably used to be?” and: “If it used to be, has it got worse, or have other beers got better?” Also: “Why the change from ‘lager’ to ‘beer’ in the new line?” That’s raising the bar. What if Carlsberg actually was the best lager in the world, just not the best beer? I reckon the world’s best beer probably isn’t a lager, but that’s my subjective view. I prefer pale ale.
The new version of Carlsberg, which the firm is convinced is better than the old one and consequently has a higher probability of being the best in the world, is not a pale ale, it’s another lager. Specifically a pilsner. Even more specifically a “Danish Pilsner”, but hopefully it’ll still be made in Northampton notwithstanding Brexit. And who among us really is withstanding Brexit? But maybe the pressure for Carlsberg not to seem too in-your-face Danish is off now that it’s been supplanted as the official beer partner of the England men’s football team by Budweiser. That’s the American one, not the Czech one, so at least it speaks English!
Meanwhile Carlsberg is extremely proud of itself. “Carlsberg UK has launched its most ambitious and honest consumer facing campaign ever in a bid to drive reappraisal of its flagship beer brand,” it boasts on its website. “The value of brand honesty to consumers is more powerful than ever,” James Joice of Fold7 (one of Carlsberg’s “agency partners”) is quoted as saying. “But it is still rare to see brands hold their hands up when they don’t live up to their promise. Carlsberg has not only been brave enough to do this, but have done something about it.” He’s so impressed he’s pluralised the company mid-sentence.
It’s certainly been a ballsy relaunch. It started with Carlsberg’s Twitter feed actively promoting a bunch of consumer tweets slagging off their old lager. They said it tasted “like stale breadsticks”, “cat piss” and the “rancid piss of Satan”, and was “like drinking the bathwater your nan died in”.
Having thrown the dead nan out with the bathwater, the firm moved on to extolling the virtues of the revamp, which has been “rebrewed from head to hop”, and comes with exciting trimmings such as a stemmed glass, a stylish fount (the thing you attach to a bar for the beer to come out of) and more environmentally friendly packaging. All in all, according to Carlsberg UK’s website, “Initial research indicates that 59% of UK lager drinkers prefer the taste of the new crisper, Carlsberg Danish Pilsner over the current UK No 1 mainstream lager.”
I hope, for Carlsberg’s sake, that the public isn’t losing its taste for understatement as well as for Satan’s rancid piss, because that’s a fairly slight claim. 59% – so most, but not overwhelmingly most – prefer the new Carlsberg, not to their favourite beer, or all other beers, but to “the current UK No 1 mainstream lager”. The internet is unclear as to which lager that is, but according to the Carling website, it’s Carling. So it’s probably Carling. Carlsberg’s painstakingly developed new beer is probably a drink that 41% of people like less than Carling. Wow.
In fact, they launched a new slogan: “Probably not the best beer in the world. So we’ve changed it.” This marketing admission raises a few questions, the first of which is: “How likely is it to be the best this time?” I mean, they’ve been calling their previous version “probably the best” for 46 years. It doesn’t feel like they’re adherents to a rigorously self-doubting approach to product development.
Other questions include: “How long have they been thinking this?”, “Do they now think it was probably never the best beer in the world, or that it probably used to be?” and: “If it used to be, has it got worse, or have other beers got better?” Also: “Why the change from ‘lager’ to ‘beer’ in the new line?” That’s raising the bar. What if Carlsberg actually was the best lager in the world, just not the best beer? I reckon the world’s best beer probably isn’t a lager, but that’s my subjective view. I prefer pale ale.The new version of Carlsberg, which the firm is convinced is better than the old one and consequently has a higher probability of being the best in the world, is not a pale ale, it’s another lager. Specifically a pilsner. Even more specifically a “Danish Pilsner”, but hopefully it’ll still be made in Northampton notwithstanding Brexit. And who among us really is withstanding Brexit? But maybe the pressure for Carlsberg not to seem too in-your-face Danish is off now that it’s been supplanted as the official beer partner of the England men’s football team by Budweiser. That’s the American one, not the Czech one, so at least it speaks English!
Meanwhile Carlsberg is extremely proud of itself. “Carlsberg UK has launched its most ambitious and honest consumer facing campaign ever in a bid to drive reappraisal of its flagship beer brand,” it boasts on its website. “The value of brand honesty to consumers is more powerful than ever,” James Joice of Fold7 (one of Carlsberg’s “agency partners”) is quoted as saying. “But it is still rare to see brands hold their hands up when they don’t live up to their promise. Carlsberg has not only been brave enough to do this, but have done something about it.” He’s so impressed he’s pluralised the company mid-sentence.
It’s certainly been a ballsy relaunch. It started with Carlsberg’s Twitter feed actively promoting a bunch of consumer tweets slagging off their old lager. They said it tasted “like stale breadsticks”, “cat piss” and the “rancid piss of Satan”, and was “like drinking the bathwater your nan died in”.
Having thrown the dead nan out with the bathwater, the firm moved on to extolling the virtues of the revamp, which has been “rebrewed from head to hop”, and comes with exciting trimmings such as a stemmed glass, a stylish fount (the thing you attach to a bar for the beer to come out of) and more environmentally friendly packaging. All in all, according to Carlsberg UK’s website, “Initial research indicates that 59% of UK lager drinkers prefer the taste of the new crisper, Carlsberg Danish Pilsner over the current UK No 1 mainstream lager.”
I hope, for Carlsberg’s sake, that the public isn’t losing its taste for understatement as well as for Satan’s rancid piss, because that’s a fairly slight claim. 59% – so most, but not overwhelmingly most – prefer the new Carlsberg, not to their favourite beer, or all other beers, but to “the current UK No 1 mainstream lager”. The internet is unclear as to which lager that is, but according to the Carling website, it’s Carling. So it’s probably Carling. Carlsberg’s painstakingly developed new beer is probably a drink that 41% of people like less than Carling. Wow.
by David Mitchell, The Guardian | Read more:
Image: Carlsberg
