NOT EVERYTHING IN BLACK AND WHITE MAKES SENSE CAMPAIGN

Background
In 1996 Guinness initiated a new advertising campaign for its famous stout beer. With a history dating back to 18th-century Ireland, the brand had a venerable image. Not only was the black-colored beer the bestselling stout in the United Kingdom and Ireland but it was also exported to 150 different countries. Abroad, Guinness was able to capitalize on its association with all things Irish to drive sales. But at home in the British Isles, Guinness found that newer Irish stout beers such as Bass and Murphy’s were threatening to encroach on Guinness’s domination of the declining stout category. Most importantly, Guinness had not captured the younger generation of 18 to 34 year olds. For the most part these younger drinkers considered the dark brew to be more their parents’ beer of choice than their own. The ‘‘Not Everything in Black and White Makes Sense’’ campaign was conceived to reposition the Guinness brand to appeal to younger drinkers. The surrealistic-style commercials created by advertising agency Ogilvy & Mather attempted to make people reconsider Guinness. The campaign set out to do so in two ways. Not only were the commercials creative, humorous, and eye-catching but they also presented implausible situations that encouraged viewers to form their own opinions—about the spots and about Guinness itself. The intent was to enable viewers to drop their preconceptions about Guinness, including common notions that the beer was too bitter, fattening, or not chic enough. ‘‘We decided we had to more or less revamp the brand and everything it stood for—re-invent it as it had re-invented itself many times already, and reconnect it to the new Ireland,’’ Guinness marketing director Tim Kelly told the Sunday Business Post.
The launch spots of the campaign—‘‘Bicycle’’ and ‘‘Old Man’’—were both directed by Tony Kaye and encouraged viewers to take a new look at Guinness. ‘‘Bicycle,’’ which was filmed in a style reminiscent of 1940s movies, depicts a world without men. Against a backdrop of the song ‘‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair,’’ the commercial portrays women in jobs traditionally held by blue-collar men. After these women drink beer, arm wrestle, and shoot pool, the commercial moves to a scene of a starkly empty maternity ward. Gloria Steinem’s famous quote, ‘‘A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle,’’ flashes on the screen. What follows is the image of a fish riding a bicycle and the campaign’s tag line, ‘‘Not everything in black and white makes sense.’’ ‘‘Old Man’’ similarly set out to shock the viewer with its surprising ending. The commercial sets out with the sad scene of an old man dressing alone in his apartment. Singer Pete Townshend’s quote appears on screen: ‘‘I hope I die before I grow old.’’ It turns out, though, that the old man is donning his formal wear to marry a heavily pregnant buxom blonde.
While Guinness’s sales rose over the life of the campaign, the company was not entirely pleased with Ogilvy & Mather’s efforts. Two spots in particular sparked firestorms of controversy, which were not the sort of notoriety Guinness was hoping to achieve with its advertising. One, involving sadomasochistic practices, was decried as a reference to the death by hanging of a conservative member of Parliament that was rumored to have had sexual undertones. The other, which never actually ran, featured two gay men enjoying a tranquil breakfast. Tabloid newspapers, which got wind of the proposed commercial, chastised Guinness for condoning homosexual behavior. When the company responded by denying that it ever intended to do so and that it never would in the future, the gay community was outraged. Ultimately, Guinness fired Ogilvy & Mather and shifted its advertising business to Abbott Mead Vickers. That agency’s first campaign for the stout giant featured more traditional advertising focusing on the quality of the beer.

HISTORICAL CONTEXT
Guinness beer was founded under near-mythic circumstances in 1759, when Arthur Guinness took over an abandoned brewery at St. James Gate in Dublin, Ireland, and began producing a dark beer called porter. In later years the company named one of its strongest brews Guinness Extra Stout Porter. The porter appellation was in time dropped, and thus the stout category of beer was born. Guinness’s distinctive black color derived from the fact that some of the barley used in the production was roasted, rather like coffee beans. The darkness of the beer contrasted with the ‘‘blonde’’ foam that resulted from the beer being poured or ‘‘pulled’’ from the tap. The company also had a venerable history of advertising. Beginning in the 1930s the SH Benson ad agency coined the slogan ‘‘Guinness is good for you.’’ At the same time the ‘‘My Goodness, My Guinness’’ poster ads, which featured a balding zookeeper whose Guinness was perpetually stolen by larcenous animals, received critical and popular acclaim. Even as early as the 1930s, however, the company used advertising to reposition the brand. The Guardian newspaper has explained that, for example, the ‘‘Guinness for Strength’’ campaign of that decade, which portrayed an archetypal workman in the midst of his labor, was designed to give the beer ‘‘a more masculine, macho image.’’ Nearly 40 years later the company sought to again reposition itself. In order to appeal to women and to soften the brand’s primary association with working-class men, Guinness designed glossy, stylish ads that appeared in British fashion magazines.
In the 1980s Guinness again shifted its image through its advertising campaign. The seven commercials of the ‘‘Guinnless’’ campaign targeted 24- to 34-year-old men by depicting humorous scenarios of Guinness drinkers who were deprived of their coveted brew. In the late 1980s Guinness signed on with ad agency Ogilvy & Mather and released the ‘‘Man with the Guinness’’ campaign, which once more deliberately tried to reposition the brand—this time ‘‘as a drink for strong, confident individuals,’’ according to The Guardian. Yet by the mid-1990s the cultural world of which Guinness was a part had again shifted. Not only had other Irish stout beers entered the market with their own distinctive advertising campaigns, but stout beers as a whole were losing British drinkers. Guinness became convinced that viewers had become too comfortable with the overwhelmingly popular seven-year ‘‘Man with the Guinness’’ campaign. To reinvigorate its marketing, the company went back to the drawing board with Ogilvy & Mather and nearly two years later released the first two ‘‘Black and White’’ commercials.

TARGET MARKET
The target of Guinness’s new campaign revealed once more a strategic repositioning of the brand. As of 1996 the stout sector of the beer market was in decline. Although 79 percent of British drinkers over the age of 55 drank stout, only 35 percent of young adults consumed it. Thus, while Guinness held more than 80 percent of the draught stout market, the company’s growth could not be fueled by gaining more within the segment. Instead Guinness had to focus on winning over younger drinkers to its distinctive stout beer. As a result, the brewing titan targeted its new campaign to 18- to 34-year old males. ‘‘Guinness need[ed] . . . consumers to rethink their choice of beers,’’ reported Advertising Age International. The goal, in short, was to appeal to the target market to ‘‘rethink stubbornness when making up one’s mind.’’
In order to reach out to its target, the campaign sought to reflect the values of young adults in the 1990s. In an era dominated by postmodern philosophy that posited the ultimate relativity of all things including truth, the campaign resonated perfectly with the abundant insecurity and introspection of the times. ‘‘Research shows people today are more inwardly focused,’’ said the Independent-London. ‘‘The current message is: think again about life, your inner self, Guinness. All is not how it appears at first glance.’’ Each of the commercials opened with a statement that appeared to be categorical, but as the commercial progressed the assertion became more tenuous and open to debate.
Moreover, the look of the campaign was crafted to reach out to its target audience. It was stylish enough to appeal to a segment of the population that was raised with television and advertising. And it did not resort to the exclusivity that was the hallmark of other beer advertising. ‘‘Bicycle’’ was decidedly non-sexist and attempted to challenge the viewer with issues of gender. Ogilvy & Mather even produced a commercial that featured two gay men together at the breakfast table engaging in a decidedly normal kiss. The spot was leaked to tabloid newspapers before its release, however, and in the ensuing ruckus Guinness chose not to release the commercial.

COMPETITION
While other stout beer producers were not challenging social mores in quite the same way, Guinness did begin to feel pressure from stout brands that challenged Guinness’s hegemony. Irish brands, including Murphy’s Irish Stout, Caffrey’s, Beamish, and Bass Ale, were expanding their market share at Guinness’s expense. Many of these brands laid claim to an Irish heritage through their advertising. These Gaelic ties were significant because, as the largest minority group in Britain, the Irish wielded considerable spending power. More importantly, however, was the fact that both in Britain and abroad (especially in the United States), the love of Irish culture had exploded in the 1990s to the point that all things of Ireland were trendy. Murphy’s sought to capitalize on this dynamic with the ‘‘Vincent Murphy’’ campaign. In one spot the quintessentially Irish Vincent Murphy sips his beer while he observes a ranting old man at the pub. As the man complains, Murphy quips, ‘‘Unlike the Murphy’s, he’s very bitter.’’ This underhanded dig at Guinness’s supposed bitter taste also subtly conveyed Murphy’s ‘‘genuine’’ Irish heritage. Caffrey’s ads, on the other hand, focused on the ‘‘New Ireland.’’ ‘‘There’s warmth and lyricism mixed with cosmopolitan and contemporary appeal,’’ a spokesperson for the company told the Independent-London. Beamish trumpeted its status as the ‘‘only brand that brews only in Ireland.’’
According to The Guardian, the ‘‘Black and White’’ campaign served to reassert ‘‘Guinness’s superiority in a marketplace that had suddenly become saturated with Irish stouts.’’ On the one hand, the explicit premise of the campaign—that not everything was as it appeared or claimed to be—addressed Guinness’s rival’s claims of cultural integrity as well as the competitors’ snipes at Guinness itself. The campaign also sought to reflect Guinness’s clout in the market. Controlling nearly 80 percent of the stout sector and 4.4 percent of total beer consumption in Great Britain, Guinness was, without question, the dominant beer in its category. The creativity and quality of the ‘‘Black and White’’ commercials sought to highlight the status of the beer itself.

MARKETING STRATEGY
As the definitive leader in its category, Guinness could not count on converting drinkers of rival stout brands as a means of continuing to expanding the brand. Instead, it had to win the loyalty of those who did not drink stout beer or had never tasted the black ale. In short, the campaign had to convince consumers to reevaluate their choice of beers. According to the Sunday Business Post, the goal of the ‘‘Black and White’’ campaign ‘‘was three-fold: to bring non-draught Guinness drinkers into the brand, to make Guinness a regular choice for occasional drinkers, and to dissuade regular drinkers from switching to competitive stouts.’’ Part of this agenda involved ‘‘updating’’ the brand’s image among younger British consumers. The campaign set out to accomplish this goal through daring commercials that clearly reached beyond Guinness’s solid, middle-age base. One of the more infamous spots of the ‘‘Black and White’’ campaign portrayed a sadomasochistic man hanging by chains from the ceiling (in a leather straightjacket) beneath a picture of British Prime Minister John Major. Other commercials in the campaign displayed similar moxie. A series of print ads featuring a satanic priest and an overweight nudist appealed to a more youthful audience. The company not only used mainstream publications to display the campaign’s ads but also selected smaller magazines that directly reached the campaign’s target. The sadomasochistic ad, for instance, ran solely in FHM, a publication with a circulation of only about 500,000 readers, most of whom, however, were young men drawn to the magazine’s glossy coverage of ‘‘fashion, football, and women,’’ according to the London Sunday Telegraph.
Guinness strove to reposition itself outside the realm of television and print also. The company sponsored the Cheltenham festival in Britain as well as the Fleadh Irish Music Festival in New York. By aligning the brand with international rock stars such as Sinead O’Connor, Van Morrison, and Shane MacGowan, Guinness sought to increase its allure with a younger and more cosmopolitan segment of the British population.

OUTCOME
The Guinness ‘‘Black and White’’ campaign was deemed a success from the outset. According to the company’s marketing department, the brand achieved its highestever share of the beer market—5.2 percent—after the campaign broke. The November 1997 Adwatch survey revealed a 56 percent recall among consumers across socioeconomic and gender lines. The survey also emphasized that the commercials performed especially well among the target audience. The campaign garnered industry accolades as well. Bob Garfield acknowledged the spots in Advertising Age International. In March 1998, however, Guinness indicated in a bold fashion that it was not entirely pleased with the high-profile ‘‘Black and White’’ campaign when it left Ogilvy & Mather and placed its advertising account with Abbott Mead Vickers instead. Officially the company stated to the Times of London that ‘‘part of the Guinness ethos has always been to move on before we have to’’ and that ‘‘Ogilvy & Mather’s work cannot be delivered any further.’’ Yet the rift between Guinness and Ogilvy & Mather ran deeper. The spot featuring the two gay men (which never ran) unleashed a storm of protest from conservative viewers and shareholders. After Guinness furiously backpedaled in response, claiming that ‘‘at no time, did we set out to make a so-called ‘gay’ ad, nor will we be screening one,’’ the gay community became outraged. Later the spot picturing the hanging sadomasochistic man drew another round of criticism, especially from Tory politicians who insisted the ad was a reference to the death by hanging of Tory Member of Parliament Stephen Milligan.
Furthermore, Guinness hinted that the ‘‘Black and White’’ campaign was ‘‘elitist’’ and inaccessible to younger consumers. Analysts speculated that the commercials had not touted the brand’s essential ‘‘Irishness’’ enough or that they had cultivated too serious an image for the beer. Guinness followed ‘‘Black and White’’ with Abbot Mead Vickers’s ‘‘Good Things Come to Those Who Wait.’’ These new commercials were decidedly non-surreal and lacked the ‘‘artistic’’ feel of the grainy ‘‘Black and White’’ spots. One spot portrays an elderly swimmer attempting to cross the village bay before his pint of Guinness, poured by his bartender brother, has settled. The old-fashioned style of the commercial contrasted with ‘‘Black and White’s’’ postmodern style.

KEEP WALKING CAMPAIGN

OVERVIEW
Diageo plc’s Johnnie Walker was one of the world’s top scotch brands in the late 1990s and early 2000s, but blended scotch as a category was in long-term decline. Among distilled spirits, meanwhile, vodka was booming, largely as a result of effective youth-oriented marketing. Trying to shed a perception that scotch drinkers were stodgy, suit-wearing business types, JohnnieWalker in 1999 unveiled a global branding campaign called ‘‘Keep Walking’’ that continued to associate scotch drinking with success while widening the definition of success to appeal to young drinkers. The U.S. version of this campaign, which began in 2001, celebrated themaverick entrepreneurial ideas of the 1990s, but its message fell prey to changing perceptions of exactly such entrepreneurs following the dot-com crash and successive corporate scandals. In 2003 Johnnie Walker’s U.S. agency, Bartle Bogle Hegarty (BBH) of New York, set out to update ‘‘Keep Walking’’ to accommodate yet another definition of success.
The new installment of ‘‘Keep Walking,’’ which had a budget of approximately $15 million, focused on life as a journey and offered Johnnie Walker as a product that helped people navigate the uncertainties of that journey. The Striding Man logo, an image of an aristocratically dressed man in midstride, had been used in the campaign’s prior incarnations to represent the idea of personal progress; now the logo was used to suggest the determination required to weather the many obstacles and strange turns one encountered in life. The campaign’s print ads paired the Striding Man and the ‘‘Keep Walking’’ tagline with stories of individual career paths that had taken unpredictable turns, while outdoor executions featured the Striding Man as their central character, who was shown having emerged from difficulties represented by simple visual symbols, such as walls, rainclouds, and stock-market graphs.
BBH exceeded its goals of drawing attention to the Johnnie Walker brand and to the Striding Man as a brand icon. The update of ‘‘Keep Walking’’ won a Silver EFFIE Award in 2005. The concept behind the outdoor component of the campaign was extended in a subsequent series of print and outdoor ads launched in late 2004.

HISTORICAL CONTEXT
Blended scotch whiskey fell drastically out of favor among American consumers during the 1980s and 1990s, losing more than 20 percent of its sales volume as young people in particular turned to clear liquors. While vodka brands such as Absolut and, later, Grey Goose built up-to-date, premium product images that appealed to people in their twenties and thirties—high-volume consumers essential to the long-term health of any alcohol brand—scotch advertising on the whole did not keep pace with the times. Predictable appeals, such as using stereotypical Scottish imagery or connecting traditional ideas of business success with scotch drinking, were ineffective in communicating with young people.
Diageo’s Johnnie Walker attempted to remedy this image problem by turning, in 1999, to a global branding platform called ‘‘Keep Walking,’’ crafted by Bartle Bogle Hegarty of London. Featuring the Striding Man logo—an image of a walking man decked out in a top hat, boots, and cane, which made its first appearance on the Johnnie Walker bottle in 1909—‘‘Keep Walking’’ was meant to suggest the idea of personal progress; the perpetually walking figure signified the determination necessary to realize one’s dreams and goals. In print ads as well as TV spots such figures as Abraham Lincoln and the actor Harvey Keitel, as well as artists and philosophers, were employed to stress the long-established connection between success and scotch-drinking, but the campaign effectively broadened the definition of success to encapsulate worlds beyond the country clubs and private libraries of macho businessmen.
A U.S.-specific campaign running under the ‘‘Keep Walking’’ umbrella was launched in early 2001, at the height of enthusiasm regarding the so-called ‘‘new economy.’’ Print ads assuring consumers that ‘‘A simple idea can change the world’’ depicted napkins on which the big entrepreneurial ideas of the 1990s—like selling coffee for $4.95 or opening an online bookstore—were shown in embryonic form, sketched on cocktail napkins, matchbooks, and other scraps of paper. A corresponding online promotion offered entrepreneurs a shot at $500,000 in grant money to realize their own business dreams. In the wake of the dot-com crash, the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, and a wave of corporate scandals, however, the limitations of this inspirational, shoot-forthe-moon message became clear. Diageo enlisted its U.S. agency, the New York office of Bartle Bogle Hegarty, to further recast the ‘‘Keep Walking’’ idea in 2003.

TARGET MARKET
Urban men aged 25 to 34 were Johnnie Walker’s primary target, but the 2003 update of the ‘‘KeepWalking’’ concept marked a key shift in the brand’s approach to this group. Previous installments of the campaign had been aimed at stimulating demand among the target group regardless of whether they already drank Johnnie Walker or, for that matter, scotch in general. The new version of ‘‘KeepWalking,’’ by contrast, was aimed at scotch drinkers who were already familiar with the brand. BBH New York sought to take advantage of the fact that most people chose their alcohol brands based on social factors; the agency felt that if those who occasionally drank Johnnie Walker could be encouraged to drink it regularly, then they would serve, ultimately, as brand representatives among their friends and acquaintances. By strategically narrowing the target market in this way, moreover, BBH was able to make better use of a limited advertising budget.
BBH believed that in a scandal-ridden, recession-era business world, it did not make sense to emphasize material riches exclusively. The agency found poll numbers suggesting that a large majority of young men would, if given the choice, prefer two extra weeks of vacation to a 10 percent raise in pay. The new installment of ‘‘Keep Walking,’’ then, emphasized life as a journey and offered models of success that were much more down-to-earth than those presented in the prerecession campaign of 2001. Gone were references to simple, world-altering ideas; in their place there appeared profiles of accomplished men, complete with references to the setbacks, humiliations, and unpredictable turns that characterized their paths to success. The Striding Man logo was transformed into a symbol of endurance rather than of simple inspiration.

COMPETITION
‘‘Keep Walking’’ supported Johnnie Walker’s two blended scotches, its Red Label and Black Label products. Johnnie Walker Red was the more affordable and more popular of the two and was America’s second-leading scotch brand, behind Dewar’s. Johnnie Walker Black, the fourth-bestselling scotch in the United States at the time of the campaign’s launch, was a rival to premium brand Chivas Regal, then the country’s number five scotch. Dewar’s, like Johnnie Walker, was at this time attempting to update its image and appeal to a younger audience. In 2000 the brand changed its approach to print marketing, entering into advertising partnerships with a few strategically selected publications, rather than continuing to run ads in as many as 20 magazines at a time. One prominent Dewar’s partnership, with Men’s Journal, resulted in a 2003 project called ‘‘Conquer the Highlands,’’ an adventure story of two young men on an ‘‘extreme’’ tour of Scotland, which ran as a print insert described as an ‘‘advertorial,’’ meaning it was intentionally similar to the magazine’s content. This blurring of the boundaries between editorial and advertising content tested magazine-publishing conventions of the time. The theme was also adapted into a cable-television program, a one-hour adventure show that likewise mixed the two young men’s adventures with product placement. Rather than continuing to compete with vodka and other clear spirits for the youth market, Chivas Regal in 2003 instead began repositioning itself to appeal to an older male market. In a global ad campaign called ‘‘The Chivas Life,’’ the brand made no apologies for its luxury roots, celebrating bold life choices such as going ice fishing in Alaska, ‘‘crossing the room like you own it,’’ and embarking on a sailing trip, the destination of which was decided by throwing a dart.
Vodka, meanwhile, was the distilled-spirits industry’s fastest-growing market segment and one in which consumers’ purchasing choices, according to many observers, were almost exclusively tied to marketing and brand image. In the 1980s and 1990s Absolut vodka had risen from obscurity to become one of the hippest brands in the world and, ultimately, the number three distilled spirits brand in America, thanks to a long-running advertising campaign that turned the product’s bottle into an iconic, fashionable emblem. In the first few years of the new millennium, however, Absolut’s yearly sales growth could not keep pace with the vodka market at large, which was growing rapidly because of new designer brands such as Grey Goose. Using a taste-test platform whose findings were called into question from the start, together with aggressive marketing to bar owners, the Grey Goose brand grew faster, between 2000 and 2004, than any alcohol product in recent memory, becoming the vodka of choice for urban consumers of pricey specialty cocktails.

MARKETING STRATEGY
The new ‘‘Keep Walking’’ campaign had an estimated budget of $15 million and involved distinct print and outdoor components meant to accomplish different tasks. The ‘‘Journeys’’ print series, which featured profiles of men who had achieved success in unconventional ways, was meant to connect with consumers by making them evaluate their own conceptions of personal progress and by showing them that Johnnie Walker understood their lives. The outdoor portion of the campaign, called ‘‘Icons,’’ was less personal and more overt in its branding, showing the Striding Man continuing to move forward despite difficulties, which were represented by simple but suggestive graphics against a black background. The ‘‘Journeys’’ ads included ‘‘Bar,’’ which showed a young man standing behind the bar of his own cuttingedge drinking establishment. A horizontal yellow timeline cut across the image, with copy reading, chronologically across the page, ‘‘First Business Loan,’’ ‘‘Second Mortgage,’’ ‘‘Third Migraine,’’ and ‘‘Fourth Location.’’ Similarly, ‘‘Cave’’ summarized an unconventional career path, showing a rear view of a man who was standing at the mouth of a cave that opened on to the ocean. The copy keyed to the various stages of the timeline graphic read, ‘‘Discover Caving,’’ ‘‘Discover Perfect Cave,’’ ‘‘Discover Others Will Pay to Be Guided There,’’ and ‘‘Discover Perfect Job.’’ ‘‘Producer’’ depicted a preoccupied man sitting in front of an enormous audiomastering console. The story of his career path, as told via the accompanying timeline, was, ‘‘Terrible Guitarist,’’ ‘‘Incompetent Drummer,’’ ‘‘Laughable Lead Singer,’’ and ‘‘Double-Platinum Producer.’’ In each ad the Striding Man logo appeared above the ‘‘Keep Walking’’ tag at the far right end of the time line, suggesting the pictured individual’s determination.
The ‘‘Icons’’ ads sent similar messages, but through symbolic images rather than via individual profiles. For instance, the Striding Man was shown emerging from the precipitous valley of a stock market graph and climbing a slope indicating an upswing, a clear reference to the recent economic woes that had affected many among the Johnnie Walker target market. ‘‘Wall’’ depicted the Striding Man on the other side of a wall he had just walked through, and ‘‘Cloud’’ showed him continuing to walk after having weathered a rainstorm. In addition to point-of-service promotions, which linked imagery from the national campaign to retail displays of the product, the campaign included a less traditional element called a ‘‘Mentorship’’ program. The program involved sending E-mail invitations that directed Johnnie Walker drinkers to a website where they could register for social gatherings staged by the brand. These gatherings put the ‘‘mentors’’ in a position to spread their brand enthusiasm to Johnnie Walker neophytes.

OUTCOME
BBH exceeded many of its goals for attracting attention to the Johnnie Walker brand. The agency met its goal of increasing awareness of the Striding Man as brand logo. Whereas only 22 percent of consumers were aware of the logo’s connection to Johnnie Walker before the campaign ran, 50 percent made the connection after the ads had been running for three months. While BBH had not staked the value of its campaign, which was more concerned with building brand equity and identity, on its capacity to generate immediate sales increases, a comparison of sales figures from the same three-month period the previous year showed a dollar-sales increase of 3.7 percent and a volume-sales increase of 3 percent. The campaign was awarded a Silver EFFIE Award in 2005. The concept behind the ‘‘Icons’’ outdoor ads was extended in a print and outdoor campaign thatwas launched in late 2004, in which the Striding Man was shown, as before, against a black background, having successfully endured an obstacle represented by symbolic graphics. More than 50 such adswere generated, and each was tailored to its medium, the timing of its appearance, or (in the case of outdoor placements) its physical location. The ‘‘Keep Walking’’ tagline and the Striding Man logo remained Johnnie Walker’s controlling umbrella concepts in subsequent advertising both globally and in the United States.