Afraid to be different? Searching for specificity in Scotch whisky
I was recently conducting some competitor research for a Scotch whisky company, an exercise for a marketing course. The course developers likely intended the research to be the challenging part — but in the field I’d picked, the greater head-scratcher was choosing the competitors.
I shan’t name the distillery at the centre of the exercise, because their anonymity befits my broader point: that many distilleries seem to be suffering from a lack of definition.
It’s a single malt distillery. Its branding references the site’s long history of drinks production. The core range comprises a mix of age-statement and NAS whiskies, produced alongside occasional premium limited editions. It employs a range of finishing casks, which it presents as more diverse and expertly handled than those of competing distilleries.
These are all laudable and suitable elements for a single malt Scotch whisky brand to highlight to potential buyers, but they are far from unique selling points.
The concept of a USP is not one you need a marketing qualification to understand — a business must provide people with a reason to choose its product or service over someone else’s.
Savvy brands hunt for something to own: sherry-cask maturation at Macallan or Tamdhu; ultra-sustainable production at Nc’nean or Ardnamurchan; triple distillation at Rosebank or Auchentoshan; the idiosyncratic peat smoke aromas of Laphroaig or Highland Park.
Fostering ‘traditional’ production methods has been a focus for new distillery projects such as Dornoch (and upcoming sister site Struie), Dunphail, Kythe and the Cabrach. As urban distilleries without bucolic locations to leverage, Port of Leith and Holyrood have differentiated themselves with grain and yeast experimentation. Kilchoman, Arbikie and Bruichladdich have placed grain provenance and farming partnerships centre-stage. But even these propositions do not truly fit the definition of uniqueness.
I’ll grant that the stringency of the Scotch Whisky Regulations leaves few places where brands can truly push the envelope, but it’s possible. Take Loch Lomond’s versatile straight-necked stills, the innovative distilling set-up and grain experimentation at InchDairnie, or the cask experimentation at Glasgow Distillery Company that spotlights previously untapped varieties.
A lack of specificity is not the only thing hurting whisky brands in their quest to attract fresh palates. Many are conversely — or even simultaneously — making their USPs too specific.
It’s simpler for people who already know about whisky to grasp the impact of distinctions in grain choice, still configuration or cask make-up. However, your average shopper may neither know nor care how many yeast strains Holyrood has trialled in its new-make spirit range, or the flavour nuances between Bruichladdich’s bere barley and Islay barley expressions. Their primary concern is how a whisky tastes. Yes, topics such as copper contact and barrel char are relevant to that discussion, but it’s not an appropriate level of debate for the majority of whisky drinkers.
Taking both of these points together (the dearth and overabundance of detail), the broader issue seems to be with the communication of a brand’s key messages rather than the messages themselves.
From a commercial perspective, it is safer to hug the curves of a narrative that’s proven to work — and Scotch whisky has one with global resonance. However, whisky makers (and marketers) should trust that enough existing or would-be drinkers will pay attention when a brand makes a bold step away from the flock. Even, or perhaps especially, in the industry’s current state of flux, there is room at the table for those that present something new.
We could do with tougher questioning in the development of a whisky brand identity, and one question in particular: “Yes, and…?”. Ask yourself what more your whisky can offer.