Brian Monteith: Bad time for Tories to suffer an identity crisis

The Tories don’t need a new logo, they need to think about responding to the big SNP show, writes Brian Monteith

SO THE Yes campaign has launched to a predictably soulful rendition of Caledonia to fuel nationalist hearts. A kaleidoscope of Scots from banker George Mathewson to trade unionist Tommy Brennan buried their dialectic differences for an hour, although they stopped short of holding hands in solidarity.

Those cheering them on told me how moving and exhilarating it was, those who were mere observers or “don’t knows” described themselves as being underwhelmed.

The event had been trailed for weeks, so what would you expect the staunchly unionist parties to do in preparing to respond? Line up some big name of their own that might steal Alex Salmond’s thunder, organise the release of some killer statistics that would rain inconvenient facts on his parade? No. In Conservative HQ what is troubling them is their emblem and how they look.

A compact fluorescent lamp flickered on in someone’s mind with the revelation that if only they could have a new identity, possibly one that was more “Scottish” then all would be well. I know this because a disgusted ordinary party member who has climbed many a tenement stair could not believe the letter he received from deputy leader Jackson Carlaw. A new logo is the new priority and in that new inclusive way where everyone will be consulted but no-one will be listened to, he was being asked for ideas.

Having worked in various aspects of marketing for my whole professional life I have been involved in many designs of logos that had to capture so much meaning and yet say it all in the blink of an eye. Getting it right is an art verging on a science and sending out appeals for ideas has never, as far as I can recall, delivered a memorable and winning icon.

Nevertheless, I thought I’d help the Scottish Conservative and Unionist Party and ask people what, if they could design the new “Scottish” Tory logo, they would suggest.

At the moment the Conservative logo is a deciduous English tree, possibly an oak but presented intentionally in a rather androgynous way so everybody feels included. Decidedly green, it is so right on, so modern, but does the tree have any roots? Certainly not in Scotland when, in those halcyon days of Miss Goldie’s leadership, it was foisted on the party by London HQ without a fight, without a Scottish tree being suggested. The Scottish wing of the party just rolled over and kept playing golf.

So I firstly asked if a new tree would be better, something that might say “Scottish”, maybe a Caledonian pine, a rowan tree or a silver birch? What? A monkey puzzle or a holly would be more apt was the response. Nobody wanted another tree. What about a bird then? The Liberal Democrats have their “freedom” bird but this idea met with universal derision. The dodo was mockingly suggested, being a bird that could not fly and is now of course extinct, rather like the Conservatives in so much of Scotland. A better choice, said one, was the ostrich with its head preferably in the sand, oblivious to what is going on around it. I could see the direction this discussion was taking.

Okay, not a tree or a bird. What about an animal? A Scottish lynx, a beaver or an Aberdeen Angus bull? None of those were attractive; instead a lemming was the suggestion of more than one, no doubt prompted by the thought of all those Tory candidates who throw themselves off the electoral cliff every so often. I thought a groundhog would be suitable, for a party caught in a repeating cycle of defeat unable to find the truth that will allow it to escape its torment, but declined from suggesting it as it was not “Scottish”.

How about a scottie dog, a Westie or a Cairn Terrier, I proffered? A poodle, preferably a toy poodle was the dry response. I was beginning to lose hope of finding something representative yet endearing, for what was especially revealing was that everyone I asked is or was a Conservative supporter.

Some had stood as candidates, some had spent thousands on the party, some had worn out the soles of their shoes canvassing, and one had even taken a punch on the party’s behalf. All were highly cynical about the value of changing the party logo.

What they knew, and what any graphic designer worth his Photoshopping laptop knows, is that a logo or a branding has to come from within, it has to be in the blood of the organisation or the recipe of the product. It has to be wholesome or happy, fast or slow, comfortable or exhilarating and for a political party it must be philosophical and credible to be appealing.

Then, during the discourse about identities, I was told another story: of how the Scottish Conservative leader Ruth Davidson had bumped the Edinburgh West Conservatives annual fundraiser on 15 June, having been called to an urgent meeting in London. I suppose it must be urgent if she knows some three weeks in advance, but it is not the first time that the Scottish leader has been called away urgently to Downing Street. Earlier this month, after the dreadful local council elections, she did the same to an expectant Tuesday Club gathering, going south at short notice.

I cannot remember David McLetchie suddenly rushing off to London at the beckoning of William Hague, Iain Duncan Smith or Michael Howard – nor can I ever recall hearing of Miss Goldie doing the same for David Cameron. This is a new departure for the Scottish Conservatives, the prime minister says jump and Ruth Davidson says, “How high?”

This tells me all I need to know in deciding upon the best identity for the Scottish Conservatives – they should just stick with the androgynous English tree that means all things to everyone but nothing of substance to anyone. The Scottish Tories are now an appendage of that tree, a mere branch and a sick one at that. Many, like Norman Tebbit, think that branch should be lopped off and a new cutting encouraged to take root and take its chances.

Whatever the party chooses, changing the logo will be a complete waste of its time while Alex Salmond makes hay. • Brian Monteith is policy director of ThinkScotland.org