The Meaning of Meaning

At a recent presentation I was asked to expand on the subject of meaning.

For once, I was truly delighted with the request, as it’s a word that can be easily misunderstood or in the context of brands, underestimated. I was also in a position of potential 'exposure', as it was a challenge that I had not spent any time at all preparing for. I had always (and quite wrongly) presumed that my branding presentation content was largely self explanatory.

However, the challenge came from an individual of some stature and respect within their corporation (and the industry), and therefore deserved a ‘meaningful’ answer. Eyes in the board room turned towards me.

The weekend before the presentation I had been consigned (with one of my two children in tow) to the weekly supermarket shop. Never a pleasant experience, made even more demanding by the distractions of young Jack, who is only prepared to show interest in breakfast cereals that are at least 140% sugar, with added chocolate.

We are spoilt locally by a profusion of large supermarkets, and for no reason, I chose on this particular weekend to favour Tescos over Sainsburys. The shopping process itself went without incident, and with trolley piled high, I approached the check-out.

I was a little surprised when the till I arrived at was being managed by the most pregnant (and delicately attractive) Asian young lady that I had ever seen. The scale of her fruitful belly was made even more apparent by the fact that she was otherwise exquisitely tiny.
I was half expecting her waters to break under the strain as she lifted my 3 litre box of Rumanian Pinot Noir across the laser scanner.

I’m sure it was something about her imminent motherhood that made me suddenly realise and exclaim all at one moment... “Oh bugger it, I’ve forgotten the milk!”

As you know, with all supermarket layouts the items that are most frequently forgotten (eggs, sugar, milk, bread) are always the ones most distant from the check out.

I was in for a long walk.

Before I had the chance to say another word, my tiny, fragile, pregnant check out girl leapt off her chair, squeezed through the check-out entrance hatch, and cheerfully said “I’ll get it for you! 2 or 4 pints?” And she trotted away.

She reappeared in no time at all, carrying not one but two four pint cartons, one full fat, one semi skimmed. I was flabberghasted.

That simple act of total dedication to personal customer service meant more to me than I could have ever imagined.

Way more than the declared intent of management, and more than the slick, expensive and occasionally clumsy advertising campaign (Prunella Scales, Jane Horrocks et al). This was a real employee absolutely delivering the experience that Tesco wants us to believe.

Almost beyond the call of duty.

I cannot drive past a Tesco store without reliving the memory of this young ladies actions.

That is the power of ‘meaning’.

That’s the story I told to the room of International Pharmaceutical Marketing executives.

They all understood.