The Follow-Through Is Everything

<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M6d-4wk8kWo/X9pFUW15-xI/AAAAAAABQ3E/WWKUqoAWIp8xOlU17wX__o8KdEdWnkXngCLcBGAsYHQ/s1266/Giovanni%2BSegantini%2B-%2BThe%2BPunishment%2Bof%2BLust.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1266" height="364" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M6d-4wk8kWo/X9pFUW15-xI/AAAAAAABQ3E/WWKUqoAWIp8xOlU17wX__o8KdEdWnkXngCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h364/Giovanni%2BSegantini%2B-%2BThe%2BPunishment%2Bof%2BLust.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21878638">The Punishment of Lust</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Giovanni Segantini, 1891 (public domain - Google Cultural Institute)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div><p data-pm-context="[]"><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div><hr /></div><p data-pm-context="[]"><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“A great deal in life depends on who smacked your hand at breakfast when you were a child.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p data-pm-context="[]"></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Krzysztof Kieślowski, 1993</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>“Don’t make me turn this car around!”</p><p>Who, having been confined to the backseat of the family wagon, hasn’t heard those words uttered in frustration from the front seat? They’re part of the lore of the family trip.</p><p>But who in reality has experienced dad or mom actually turning the car around and canceling the vacation?</p><p>As children, we’re trained to believe that the worst threats would be fulfilled, with devastating results. Intimidation by corporal punishment (“the belt”) has given way to the terror of revoked screen time — generations separated by virtue of disparate physical objects — evocative of a horrible, dreadful outcome.</p><p>Until those words are backed up with actions, they’re just that: words. But words carry power, and their power is only as effective as our actions.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“If he who breaks the law is not punished, he who obeys it is cheated.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Thomas Szasz, 1973</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>We have rules and expectations for a reason. Leaders understand them, follow them, and talk about them. Leaders in families, leaders in our communities, leaders in corporations. The cliché of leading by example is fundamentally true.</p><p>We communicate with <strong><a href="https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/swindle-fraud/reassuring-words">reassuring words</a></strong> so our values are clear for everyone to see. Here’s an example from a company’s annual report:</p><blockquote><p><em><strong>Respect</strong></em>: We treat others as we would like to be treated ourselves. We do not tolerate abusive or disrespectful treatment. Ruthlessness, callousness, and arrogance don’t belong here.</p><p><em><strong>Integrity</strong></em>: We work with customers and prospects openly, honestly, and sincerely. When we say we will do something, we will do it; when we say we cannot or will not do something, then we won’t do it.</p><p><em><strong>Communication</strong></em>: We have an obligation to communicate. Here, we take the time to talk with one another…and to listen. We believe that information is meant to move and that information moves people.</p><p><em><strong>Excellence</strong></em>: We are satisfied with nothing less than the very best in everything we do. We will continue to raise the bar for everyone. The great fun here will be for all of us to discover just how good we can really be.</p></blockquote><p>Fairly straightforward, right? Written in language everyone can understand and centered around values that are universal, these are innocuous (and some might say generic) values that everyone can agree to follow.</p><p>Except in this case, everyone <em>didn’t</em> agree to abide by them. This is from a 1998 annual report of <strong>Enron</strong>, the energy concern that played fast and very loose with its finances, leading to its demise and criminal charges against executives there.<br /><br /></p><p><strong>Words are worthless without behavior that underscores them</strong>. They become meaningless thought bubbles, wisps of intentions scattered by the winds that whip through a ghost-town of ineffectual action.</p><p>When a company sends out communications with typos or grammatical errors, when an employee talks about grand plans to change a broken process but doesn’t see the project through, when a family member promises cease some behavior that has put a relationship in jeopardy but falls back into the same pattern, what do these things tell you about them?</p><p>Everything communicates.</p><p>This is why Facebook’s constant apologies are empty. They claim they stand for something, or that they made a mistake, yet they continue pushing forward, without oversight, <strong><a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2020/12/facebook-doomsday-machine/617384/">a doomsday machine in motion</a></strong>.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Indifference is… the permanent form of cruelty.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em>— Marcel Proust, 1921</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Leaders care about the people they serve. And it is just that: service. They know it’s their responsibility to help people improve, achieve more, and become better people.</p><p>It means as a leader, you need to live up to the ideals you set forth for others, and it means following through with consequences.</p><h3><br /><br /><strong>Letting a hero go</strong></h3><p>In the mid-1940s and early 1950s, <strong>General Douglas MacArthur</strong> was a national hero. As General of the Army, he led the Allied forces in the Pacific during World War II and received the Medal of Honor. He was so popular that streets, public works, parks (see what I did there?), and even a dance step were named after him.</p><p>But when he criticized <strong>President Truman’s</strong> limited-war strategy in public (and secretly sent cables to the Tokyo embassies of some European countries that he would push for the war and would win it), it was too much. Truman, by the power granted to him in the Constitution as commander-in-chief, relieved MacArthur of his command.</p><p>It was a bold and severe move, complicated by the public adulation of the military hero. But Truman was always a man of his word — courageous and principled. A man of character.<br /><br /></p><h3><strong>More than what we do: who we are</strong></h3><p>And lest you think this is just about punitive actions, it’s not. When we give our employees benefits like family leave or paid time off, <strong><a href="https://hbr.org/2020/12/im-a-ceo-and-a-working-dad-heres-what-i-wish-i-did-differently">but work right through them ourselves</a></strong>, we’re telling them that work takes priority over family, regardless of our written policies.<br /><br /></p><p>This time of year, parents may have the power of Santa or Elf on a Shelf to back them up, but leaders don’t have those magical beings or the power of the Constitution to issue threats and consequences.</p><p>We do have our convictions though. The values we express. The morals that guide us as individuals and as executives.</p><p>Leading with integrity means following through on your stated intentions.</p><p>When you don’t, it shows.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><br /></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em>For paid subscribers, I’ll see you back here on Friday with more links and recommendations for listening and reading. Get it by signing up:</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i> </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div></div><div><br /></div>

The Follow-Through Is Everything

  The Punishment of Lust  by Giovanni Segantini, 1891 (public domain - Google Cultural Institute) “A great deal in life depends on who smack...

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Why Nostalgia Clouds Our Judgment

<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maGBFQx57fE/X9EU9kycwtI/AAAAAAABQcs/urujN_Ggfk42g7Z8aUZHl0fWe20cZHkZwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/John%2BWilliam%2BWaterhouse%2B-%2BMiranda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2000" height="474" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maGBFQx57fE/X9EU9kycwtI/AAAAAAABQcs/urujN_Ggfk42g7Z8aUZHl0fWe20cZHkZwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h474/John%2BWilliam%2BWaterhouse%2B-%2BMiranda.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Miranda_-_John_William_Waterhouse.jpg" target="_blank">Miranda</a></i><span style="text-align: left;"> by John William Waterhouse, 1875 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p><em>In William Shakespeare's The Tempest, Miranda is the daughter of Prospero. She was banished to an island at the age of three, along with her father, where they lived for over a decade with only their only company their slave, Caliban. Miranda is blissfully unaware of the evils of the larger world and is openly compassionate.</em></p><p><em><br /></em></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“We are all sensitive to the splendors of beginnings, to the rare quality of those moments when the present is freed from the past without as yet letting anything shine through of the future that sets it into motion.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Marc Augé, 2004</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Nostalgia is something of a false prophet. It feeds us powerful visions: memories of a glorious experience of the past—something that makes us long to relive it, like a first visit to a favorite location or a first viewing of a classic film.</p><p>Yet we can never reclaim it.</p><p>Therein lies the deceptive power of nostalgia. It’s able to create a deep and meaningful feeling within us, but it’s not the same as delivering an experience.</p><p>Especially at the holidays, when our playful memories serve up visions of sugarplums, snow angels, and laughter around the fireplace.</p><p>But it isn’t quite powerful enough to inoculate us from the cold reality of recycled fruitcake, scraping ice off of windshields, and the rising voices of family squabbles.</p><p>Why do we go on believing in the romance of the past?</p><p>Nostalgia is defined as “a wistful yearning for a return to some past period or irrecoverable condition.”</p><p>It’s a feeling that wraps around us like a favorite sweater or a particularly enjoyable food from our childhood. The result is a sense of warmth and comfort (hence the term “comfort food”).</p><p>Incidentally, comfort foods don’t contain any magic elixir or healing properties; it’s <strong><a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/comfort-foods-arent-magic-memory-might-be-180961300/">the very memory of them that acts as a gentle salve</a></strong> for our troubled minds. They bring us a sense of belonging.</p><p>And really, isn’t that just what anyone wants? To belong.</p><p>Whether it’s a friend, family member, or an employee on your team, we all want to feel as if we’ve found the proper place in the world, that we’re useful to others, and that we're appreciated.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“But there can be no grave for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson...Shall they not always live in Baker Street? Are they not there this moment, as one writes? Outside, the hansoms rattle through the rain, and Moriarty plans his latest devilry. Within, the sea-coal flames upon the hearth and Holmes and Watson take their well-won case...So they still live for all that love them well; in a romantic chamber of the heart, in a nostalgic country of the mind, where it is always 1895.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Vincent Starrett, 1933</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>When we wax nostalgic, we call to mind “the good old days,” or that “romantic chamber of the heart” that Vincent Starrett referred to above.</p><p>It’s similar to our discussion of <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/where-have-you-been">origin stories</a></strong> in last Friday’s newsletter. We long for those days when things were simpler, when challengers were fewer, and it was easier to discern between right and wrong.</p><p>Consider Facebook’s initial stated intent of making the world a more connected place, or Google’s pledge to not be evil. Without foreknowledge of the complex world and competing human desires into which technology thrust itself, these platitudes are nostalgic.</p><p>Yet we can never reclaim them. We can’t unring the bell.</p><p>You might even wonder if things ever <em>were</em> that unfettered.</p><p>The unspoken promise of the Make America Great Again message is to return America to a better, simpler time; to some, that means the 1950s, when suburban America was growing, kids were home and at the dinner table at 5:00 pm (which of course the housewife prepared), and life was like an episode of <em>Leave It To Beaver</em>.</p><p>That’s nostalgia.</p><p>The reality, though? Women didn’t have as many choices in terms of careers, were underpaid (and still are), and were victims of sexual harassment that could never be admitted in polite company.</p><p>The Civil Rights Act hadn’t yet been passed, and Black Americans had to fight to eat at the same lunch counters, struggled to be able to vote as easily as everyone else (and still do), and sue their way to be able to attend a local school.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“And the time and place and all the great events are near and dear to us not because our memories call them forth in pure nostalgia, but because they are a part of us today.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Edgar W. Smith, 1946</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>One form of nostalgia practiced in plenty of companies is the classic mantra “we’ve always done it that way.” Defensive long-term employees (those with an institutional memory—which itself isn't a negative) flex their WADITW muscle not by virtue of seniority, but as an autonomous response to avoid change.</p><p><strong>Progress</strong> and <strong>nostalgia</strong> are diametric opposites.</p><p>Progress pushes us forward, sometimes into cold and unfamiliar territory, where we make decisions we’re not comfortable with. We may eventually find our footing, but those first steps can be scary.</p><p>Conversely, nostalgia keeps us rooted in the past. It tethers us to the familiarity and comfort that actions, repeated by rote, bring us over time. The danger is we might be mindlessly moored to ideas and practices, without considering alternatives.</p><p>There’s nothing wrong with evoking nostalgia; many of the retro themes or vintage products we see today (pick your CPG, QSR, or other company of choice—from retro bottles of Mountain Dew to website quizzes on which household items you remember from the '70s or '80s) draw on our collective memories of experiences past.</p><p>Even Ebenezer Scrooge was visited by nostalgia in the form of the Ghost of Christmas Past, which brought him back to his childhood. For a while, he enjoyed it: happy scenes like his beloved sister Fan, a Christmas party hosted by his former boss, Mr. Fezziwig, who treated him like a son, and his fiancée Belle.</p><p>But when the ghost showed him a scene of Belle ending their relationship because she couldn’t be with a man who loved money more than her, the reality was too much for Scrooge:</p><blockquote><p><strong>“Spirit.” said Scrooge in a broken voice, “remove me from this place.”</strong></p><p><strong>“I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,” said the Ghost. “That they are what they are, do not blame me.”</strong></p><p><strong>“Remove me.” Scrooge exclaimed, “I cannot bear it.”</strong></p></blockquote><div class="captioned-image-container"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Il0F75tcqfI/X9EVpXTzYiI/AAAAAAABQc0/WzEoMqzuJksN7seKJG74nFtCBRD_bo9cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1079/John%2BLeech%2B-%2BScrooge%2BExtinguishes%2Bthe%2BFirst%2Bof%2BThree%2BSpirits%252C%2B1843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="852" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Il0F75tcqfI/X9EVpXTzYiI/AAAAAAABQc0/WzEoMqzuJksN7seKJG74nFtCBRD_bo9cgCLcBGAsYHQ/w316-h400/John%2BLeech%2B-%2BScrooge%2BExtinguishes%2Bthe%2BFirst%2Bof%2BThree%2BSpirits%252C%2B1843.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Scrooge Extinguishes the First of Three Spirits</i> by John Leech, 1843 <br />(Scanned image by <a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/misc/pvabio.html" style="text-align: left;">Philip V. Allingham</a>)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /><br /></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Marc Auge wrote, “tell me what you forget and I will tell you who you are.” When we gloss over our past or even introduce a romantic, nostalgic element to it, we do a disservice to ourselves and to others.</p><p>When we share stories of our past, it’s perfectly acceptable to yearn for them again. At the same time, we might yearn for a better future by learning from our past.</p><p><br /></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br />I'll be back on Friday, but for paid subscribers only. Lots of links and another essay, as well as a book and podcast recommendation. Click below to join.</p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the December 9 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div>

Why Nostalgia Clouds Our Judgment

  Miranda  by John William Waterhouse, 1875 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons) In William Shakespeare's The Tempest, Miranda is the dau...

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Grand Symbols Produce Great Expectations

<div style="text-align: left;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q0Ro0tH3npE/X8dG9CBMu-I/AAAAAAABQSw/F35i5UUqPgMLkbcV5GCG-mwOJ-Bqy4mRACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Abraham%2BLouis%2BRodolphe%2BDucros%2B-%2BThe%2BColosseum%252C%2BRome%2B%2528no%2Bdate%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1382" data-original-width="2048" height="432" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q0Ro0tH3npE/X8dG9CBMu-I/AAAAAAABQSw/F35i5UUqPgMLkbcV5GCG-mwOJ-Bqy4mRACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h432/Abraham%2BLouis%2BRodolphe%2BDucros%2B-%2BThe%2BColosseum%252C%2BRome%2B%2528no%2Bdate%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/334465">The Colosseum, Rome</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Abraham Louis Rodolphe Ducros, n.d. (public domain - Metropolitan Museum of Art)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about. All democrats object to men being disqualified by the accident of birth; tradition objects to their being disqualified by the accident of death.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— G.K. Chesterton, 1908</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />I've been thinking a lot about traditions lately. With the holiday season upon us—as we make the stretch from Thanksgiving to the New Year, it's typically laden with traditions.</p><p>Family gatherings, favorite recipes, old decorations, traveling. Individually, these are actions we take that represent the customs we've chosen to maintain.</p><p>But in 2020, with the pandemic bearing down upon us, we've had to forgo some of those traditions. Particularly of the travel and extended family variety. It's a painful reminder that we're not anywhere near being normal, and it forces us to wonder: what new traditions will come out of this?</p><p>We like to think that traditions are immutable customs that we've been repeating for generations, sacrosanct and impervious to the buffets of modern life. They're not manmade like a piece of art, but they grow as a result of the things we do voluntarily rather than instinctively. Our traditions are a matter of choices that we make along the way.</p><p>Since my parents were born right up until I left for college (a timespan of 40-50 years), they understood and participated in the weekly tradition of Sunday dinner with the family (parents, grandparents, etc.). When everyone in the family lived in the same town (or even on the same street!), this was simply how it was done.</p><p>Now, we're scattered to various parts of the country and the frequent dining and visits aren't a tradition. And it's painful to the generation that knew nothing else. To the next generation that never experienced these events, it's not even a subconscious memory. All that remains are the stories we tell each other about our grandparents, our childhood, and other memories of what we did.</p><p><br /></p><h3><strong>Symbols tell powerful stories</strong></h3><p>While we can't necessarily keep every tradition alive, we do have artifacts that help remind us of where we came from and what was important to us. A family portrait, grandmother's china, grandfather's pocket watch, or other mementoes that were strongly associated with a person or event.</p><p>Each year after Thanksgiving, my family decorates our Christmas tree. And each year, decorations and boxes of ornaments seem to be more onerous as they seem to multiply while they're hidden away eleven months a year in the storage area. What was a purely joyous tradition now feels like more like a task. Except.</p><p>Except there's a spark of excitement that's kept alive. It's there in each of us, but it's quickly coaxed to first to a full flame, then to a roaring bonfire—thanks to the pure excitement and joy of our seven year-old daughter.</p><p>She's been looking forward to this with the same intensity as if it were Christmas morning. And the thing is, her cheerfulness exhilarates us in turn.</p><p>The very act of bringing home a tree and putting it in the stand (just some manual labor combined with a sense of balance and the ability to eyeball a plumb line) initiated her elation. Not even the annual “let's find the dead bulb” portion of our festooning of the tree could slow her down.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Pictures painted in childhood are painted in bright hues.”</strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Kate Douglas Wiggin, 1886</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>The tree itself is a symbol for everything about our Christmas. It means our family gathers around it, we unbox old ornaments and share memories, we drink hot cocoa and listen to Christmas songs on Spotify, all while working diligently to fill the tree — recalling that one time that we overloaded one side of the tree, causing it to tip over.</p><p>All of those memories are triggered by virtue of simply putting the tree in the living room.</p><p>Consider the symbols that humans instantly recognize and what they've meant over the years. The aquila was the golden standard carried by each Roman legion. The gold eagle not only represented each legion but the honor of Rome itself. If they lost a standard, it was considered a grave offense.</p><p><a href="https://www.royalwarrant.org/">Royal Warrants</a> are marks of excellence granted to companies that provide products and services to Queen Elizabeth II, the Duke of Edinburgh, and the Prince of Wales. Grantees are entitled to display the royal arms on their products or places of business, thus demonstrating that they're highly sought after brands.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mMWcqtWvMI4/X8dHcd4V37I/AAAAAAABQS8/denhotnIPqADMqU2EnYQ7OmDmqEty1ZeQCLcBGAsYHQ/s480/royalwarrants.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="185" data-original-width="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mMWcqtWvMI4/X8dHcd4V37I/AAAAAAABQS8/denhotnIPqADMqU2EnYQ7OmDmqEty1ZeQCLcBGAsYHQ/s16000/royalwarrants.png" /></a></div><br /><p>The Nike swoosh, the Apple logo, and even audio logos such as Netflix's “<a href="https://youtu.be/GV3HUDMQ-F8">ta-DUM</a>,” <em>Law & Order's</em> “<a href="https://youtu.be/gP3MuUTmXNk">doink-doink</a>,” or HBO's <a href="https://youtu.be/ZC_uTMkmH08">ident</a> are all powerful symbols. We know what's coming or what's expected when we see them.</p><p>The choices we make, the habits we form, the traditions we build are all connected to symbolism, whether we realize it or not.</p><p>To put it another way, everything communicates.</p><p>And as leaders tasked with communicating to our stakeholders, whether they're employees, customers, investors, the public, friends or family members, every word we utter and every setting we're in will be scrutinized.</p><p>Lest you doubt me, I refer you to The Curious Incident of the Tiny Desk.</p><p>I rest my case.</p><h2><strong><br />An iconic landmark lends its name</strong></h2><p>There's another icon that immediately brings to mind sophistication, pageantry, and centuries of tradition: <strong>Highclere Castle</strong>. Otherwise known as the mansion used in <em>Downton Abbey</em>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t6aUCZXlxXY/X8dHlBEl2dI/AAAAAAABQTA/aoMArwPnyZIo-4AW3KlpY_zbFRyxzH4mACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/HighclereCastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1433" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t6aUCZXlxXY/X8dHlBEl2dI/AAAAAAABQTA/aoMArwPnyZIo-4AW3KlpY_zbFRyxzH4mACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/HighclereCastle.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>The home and its estate have been used in a number of productions before (my favorite being <em>Jeeves & Wooster</em> with Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie, where it stood in for Totleigh Towers), and it is instantly recognizable.</p><p>Imagine my surprise then, when I received a note from the purveyors of <strong><a href="https://www.highclerecastlespirits.com/">Highclere Castle Gin</a></strong>. While I'm a gin drinker, I'm not a reviewer. But I had to know more about the choice of this symbol of luxury with respect to this spirit.</p><p>The background materials told me the estate is a visible link to history: over 1,000 acres of parkland surrounded by rolling hills and containing the finest occupied Victorian mansion in England. The 8th Earl of Carnarvon and Lady Carnarvon are part of a family that has lived in the home for more than 300 years.</p><p>But this isn't the case of taking a recognizable symbol like Highclere and simply slapping it on a bottle of gin. As it happens, the ingredients and the distillation process are authentically Highclere, as you’ll learn below.</p><p>In short, this product not only came with a symbol, it came with a story as well. A story that involves history and the modern era. In short, the kind of thing appropriate for <em><strong>Timeless & Timely</strong></em>.</p><p>So I reached out to <strong><a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/adamvongootkin/">Adam von Gootkin</a></strong>, a spirits entrepreneur who, together with the Earl and Lady Carnarvon, founded Highclere Castle Gin, to understand more about his vision.</p><p>The following are excerpts from our interview.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h4><strong>Timeless & Timely: What is it about gin that makes it so popular — not only in recent years, but as a timeless classic?</strong></h4><p><strong>Adam von Gootkin:</strong> I think consumers are rediscovering that gin adds a level of sophistication to cocktails that vodka cannot. Vodka, of course is defined as flavorless, odorless alcohol molecules which when described like that hardly makes me think of a luxurious decadent flavor extravaganza.</p><p>Gin is both ancient while incorporating the beautiful botanical notes that lend themselves to a complex or simple cocktail and ultimately to a flavor experience that the more refined customer is seeking. With Highclere Castle Gin this is expressed in the liquified heritage and history of Highclere Castle, the hundreds of years of the highest quality of entertaining with gin and of course the integrating of the beautiful citrus and botanicals from the Highclere estate. </p><p>Before prohibition the cocktail concept was rather new. On the world stage there existed gin, scotch, rum, cognac and bourbon as more or less the only players in spirits. As the cocktail culture developed, gin took center stage in the ability to bring to life beautiful cocktails.<br /><br /></p><p></p><h4><strong>Gin had its origins as a medicinal drink, and later was used to mask the flavor of quinine, the antimalarial compound. Given this background, what has it been like selling gin during a global pandemic? What challenges did you face and how did you address them? Has 2020, beyond the obvious, brought any surprises to you as a founder?</strong></h4><p>In 2019 global demand for our gin was growing at a rate that we didn’t expect. We launched 25 US markets in addition to the UK, France and Switzerland. By the time the pandemic hit, we were just beginning our first spring cocktail gin and tonic season with plans to expand in Europe, Canada, US and Latin America. Obviously as the hospitality industry shut down as did many of our distributers, we were left with fantastic launch plans and no launches, strategies bereft of tactics.</p><p>We realized we needed an entirely new strategy to be expressed with nimble tactics. This resulted in plans to focus on core markets going deep with our key retailers and restaurants that were the best in their market and the greatest fit for Highclere Castle Gin. We have accomplished this and have learned much through this pivot.</p><p>My belief is if you can successfully survive a global shut down while protecting your team and the integrity of the brand and still be prepared to come out swinging that you are in fact a business with a reason to exist. Highclere Castle has survived a multitude of global calamities, struggles and challenges and yet will be here a hundred years from now. And so will Highclere Castle Gin.<br /><br /></p><p></p><h4><strong>What was your strategy to make the brand stand out?</strong></h4><p>In a world where the vast majority are concocted in marketing boardrooms, I find it rather easy to stand out when you have a true commitment to authenticity. Highclere Castle Gin is a spirit that redefines the gin category.</p><p>Through the commitment of sustainable farming, the protection of ancient botanical gardens, and the stories of Highclere’s exceptional level of hospitality and hosting many of the worlds most interesting people over gin cocktails we bring to life a brand that represents the noble aspiration of being the very best. </p><p>In terms of our marketing strategy, I believe that advertising in general is a tax you pay for not being creative. We are very social media- and PR-oriented to tell the soul of our brand’s story. Lady Carnarvon does the most amazing job from the castle and our team further amplifies the beauty and uniqueness of Highclere Castle Gin throughout the world.<br /><br /></p><p></p><h4><strong>When there are so many gimmicky marketing and branding efforts, just what is it about Highclere Castle Gin that makes it more authentic than others?</strong></h4><p>First, Highclere Castle is real place. A special place representing the best of British hospitality, lifestyle, customs, and traditions. It is both a working estate, a farm, a country home. There to provide beauty and pleasure to the public and memories and experience for special guests.</p><p>Highclere Castle Gin represents the style of country living and the pedigree of the eight generations of Earls of Carnarvons who have placed their hearts and souls into maintaining the standard. Lord and Lady Carnarvon are active partners in the business, both caring for the botanicals and taking a strong lead in the brand ambassadorship. Ultimately the castle and the estate are the brand’s home and people come from around the world to experience it.</p><p>Second, the most important thing about any spirit is the flavor. We invested over a year and a half on the recipe design. Neither time nor cost was our God. The mission, to create the finest gin that has ever been birthed from a copper still. Connoisseurs from around the world are spreading the world that it’s the first gin you can actually sip on the rocks and it’s brilliant in how it shines in cocktails.</p><p>Lastly, Highclere Castle Gin is distilled in England’s oldest gin distillery located above an ancient underground water source. It is hand crafted and distilled in England’s oldest copper gin still. We spent over four years developing the brand including the recipe, bottle design and finding the right partners to distribute it carefully and thoughtfully around the world.</p><div><hr /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCYchwJae2I/X8dIRu2HdwI/AAAAAAABQTU/uwx8sLeqgzc8kms1aPMwjumjCmqjhGhOgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1232/Highclere%2BGin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="1232" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCYchwJae2I/X8dIRu2HdwI/AAAAAAABQTU/uwx8sLeqgzc8kms1aPMwjumjCmqjhGhOgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/Highclere%2BGin.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Just another day at the office</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><br /></figure></div><p>As you can see, the bottle itself is iconic. And after tasting the gin myself, there's no gimmick about this. It's earned its place as a favorite in my home bar.</p><p>Let's call it one of the new traditions we're establishing over the holidays.</p><p>May the traditions you create and follow be surrounded by anticipation, expectation, and fulfillment.<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><em><strong>Disclosure</strong>: I was provided one bottle of Highclere Castle Gin from the distributors.</em></p><p><br /></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I'll be back on Friday, but for paid subscribers only. Lots of links and another essay, as well as a book recommendation you won't want to miss. Click below to join.</p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the December 2 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div>

Grand Symbols Produce Great Expectations

  The Colosseum, Rome  by Abraham Louis Rodolphe Ducros, n.d. (public domain - Metropolitan Museum of Art) “Tradition means giving votes to ...

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