On Belonging
ISSUE 28 [628g Per Serving]
The Old Man and the Sea
June marks my perennial battle with the English Channel. You might think swimming in Dover Harbour is a fairly protected affair. How rough can things get in a body of water well-contained by solid sea walls? The answer — two weeks ago at least — is very rough.
Despite the fact I’m currently sitting in my pants (excuse the image), camped in front of an industrial-sized fan with an obnoxiously large jug of iced Vietnamese tea beside me (yes, I did discover it on my recent travels, thanks for asking), just a fortnight ago the south of England was being terrorised by the sort of weather no self-respecting human would leave the house in. Still, there we were. In the water. Questioning our life decisions.
Who Was That Woman?
This was the second training camp I’ve done down in Dover. And while I’m ramping up for my return to Windermere, most of the others are planning on swimming to France. Some already have. One guy had done a two-way — there and back in one go — and now was eyeing up the North Channel, a notoriously cold crossing from Ireland to Scotland (official attempts are never made in wetsuits).
As usual, when you get there, you size people up. He looks strong. Bet he averages a fair whack per hour. She’s got the Garmin I want. Must be serious. It’s only natural. But long-distance swimming is a funny pursuit. More than any other sport I’ve ever been involved in, it’s near impossible to judge someone’s ability beforehand.
By the end of the camp, people who had gone almost entirely unnoticed days earlier were emerging from 14-degree water after six-hour swims in what the organisers called some of the worst conditions they’d ever seen. If you didn’t know their names before, you knew them now.
Don’t Say The C Word
Community is fast becoming a cliché in advertising circles. Buzzwordification aside, though, it’s hard to argue with the goal of deepening ties with consumers — especially when those strategies include real-life moments that actually bring people together.
That said, community isn’t really what people are craving. Belonging is.
Community enables belonging. It creates the conditions for people to feel part of something.
When I talk about helping brands belong in culture, I’m talking about something specific. It doesn’t mean just showing up. And it definitely doesn’t mean moving at the speed of… you know the one.
It means acting in a way that earns you a seat at the table.
In that sense, it isn’t about standing out. At least not standing out for standing out’s sake. It’s about being recognised as a valued member of the group. And when brands get it right, they get much more than attention. They get acceptance.
Extra Tartar Please, Guv
Tucking into a big old plate of scampi and chips on the last night in Dover, Tom told me I should put on a few pounds. Might help me cope with the cold better. I liked the idea, so I ordered more sauce and another full-fat Coke. How’s that for Carb Loading?
Becky was across from me. Maybe in her mid-fifties. Quiet and unassuming. She’d been one of only two people to bash out a six-hour swim twice that week.
At one point I joked I should probably be sitting on another table given my comparatively meagre efforts.
She looked up from her lasagne.
“Everyone belongs here,” she said.
“We’re all swimmers.”