The notion that "All publicity is good publicity" is usually attributed to the 19th century circus owner, Phineas T. Barnum. It is a theory that has journeyed on the road from aphorism to trope and all the way to becoming a cliché. But now, the theory has been comprehensively disproved and laid to rest by the Scottish brewer, BrewDog. 

You may recall that back in the summer and autumn of 2021, Geraint Lloyd Taylor reported on BrewDog's notorious tweet which promised that 10 "solid gold" cans had been hidden in 12-can slabs of Punk IPA. The lucky finders of these "solid gold" cans would then able claim a gold can, which BrewDog valued at £15,000 (although without any obvious substantiation), ten thousand shares in BrewDog & VIP tour of their brewery. The promotion was repeated at later date, using slightly different language. Twenty-five people complained to the Advertising Standards Authority that the reference to "solid gold" cans was misleading, and the ASA agreed. You can read Geraint's more detailed explanation here. 

Even before the golden can debacle, BrewDog had enjoyed other publicity, not all of it good, at least not in the conventional sense. They had a previous run-in with the ASA in November 2020, when the regulator upheld a complaint about some fruity language in press and poster ad, that you can read here. Ironically, in all the furore over their use of obscenities, they appear to have avoided any requirement to substantiate their claim to be 'carbon negative', which you might think is a much more serious issue.

And in July 2021, the ASA had upheld complaints about the advertising for BrewDog's Clean & Press hard seltzer drink, which had claimed “DUE TO ADVERTISING REGULATIONS WE CANNOT CLAIM THIS DRINK IS HEALTHY”, and then “Even though Clean & Press is only 90 calories per can, with no carbs or sugar and a little bit of alcohol, this is not a health drink. If you are looking for a health drink, do not drink Clean & Press.” This ad gave rise to 3 issues of complaint, all of which were upheld. First, it made nutrition and health claims which are prohibited for an alcoholic beverage by referring to "only" 90 calories and "no carbs or sugar". Second, the headline "implied that the drink was beneficial to overall good health or health-related well-being." And finally, the ASA concluded that consumers were likely to interpret the reference to Clean & Press containing “a little bit of alcohol” as meaning that it was a ‘low alcohol’ product, which the law only allows to be drink with no more than 1.2% ABV, whereas Clean & Press contains 5% ABV. Shurely shome mishtake, as they shay. 

In the summer of 2021, BrewDog presumably remained devotees of PT Barnum's aphorism. However, the publicity surrounding complaints by their employees about the 'toxic culture' at the company may have begun to change their minds. You can read about that on the BBC website. (Other news outlets are available.)

Perhaps in an attempt to mend their reputation, BrewDog took a stance against the hosting of the FIFA World Cup in Qatar, which my colleague David Cakebread wrote about in this blog post (with a little bit of help from me). Coming on the back of so much negative publicity, many people accused BrewDog of cynically attempting to sports-wash their own reputation by apparently condemning FIFA. 

It should therefore come as no surprise that today's post on LinkedIn by BrewDog's CEO, James Watt, in which he claims to have personally made recompense to 40 holders of the golden cans by paying them £15,000 a piece has not gone down like a glass of amber nectar. Apart from the fact that his use of maths validates Rishi Sunak's call for compulsory maths teaching to the age of 18, it is also rather difficult to reconcile James's version of events with the ASA's original adjudication. 

Also, having been caught out by his use of one social media platform, Twitter, it might have been unwise to publish his humble-bragging mea culpa on LinkedIn. He claims to have been overexcited by the opportunity to play Willy Wonka and did not think through the distinction between gold-plated and solid gold. He also claims that his manganous buy-back personally cost him £470,000 - the equivalent of two-and-a-half years' salary, although the last set of accounts filed a Companies House state the highest paid director was paid £550k in 2020 which fell to £412k in 2021, perhaps because of all that negative publicity. To be fair, the accounts do not state whether James is the highest paid director, but he is the CEO. Perhaps he meant after tax? Even still, if he now owns 40 gold plated cans that he has previously valued at £15,000 - then he's sitting on an asset worth £600k.  

However, by making this statement in LinkedIn, James has laid himself open to an enormous number of negative comments which you can read by clicking on the link below. Yes, there are some positive comments, but they would need to be worth their weight in gold to outweigh all the negative ones.

So, it may seem like fun to be a challenger brand, a punk that actively courts a slapped wrist from the ASA in order to burnish your credentials as a rebel. But eventually, it may turn out that not all publicity is good publicity after all.