Jim Northover

This article was published in The Times Higher Education World Rankings 2011-12, published 15 March 2012

The world of academia has been working itself up into a lather about branding recently. The battle lines have been firmly drawn between those who see it as a rational response to a changing marketplace and therefore a necessity, and those who regard it as a cynical and superficial marketing ploy that wastes money. Of course, it’s not that black and white: the reality is both more complicated and more interesting. There is a case to be made for branding universities, and it’s one I want to make. It starts with self-awareness. Like people, institutions need a strong sense of their own identity if they are to connect successfully with others. It is not always easy to view oneself and one’s strengths and weaknesses objectively, as every student who writes a “personal statement” on an application form knows. On one level a university’s brand is the exact equivalent of a personal statement. It needs to be truthful and to “sell” the institution – not an easy task.

Universities, in the UK at least, are now facing the stringent realities of market forces in a way that they have not had to before. For many this feels uncomfortable, but in response it is as unwise to clutch at panaceas as it is to resist change. Some look to branding as a way to rewrite their background and conduct a “makeover” as if a participant in a reality TV show, while others worry that the dark forces of commerce will envelop academic independence. In a recent article in Perspectives: Policy and Practice in Higher Education, the journal of the Association of University Administrators, Paul Temple, reader in higher education management at the Institute of Education, argued that branding exercises were “excellent ways to waste time and money”. Indeed they can be, if not properly directed, but failure to address t he issues t hat a branding exercise should raise would be complacent.

For those in charge of any university, branding is not an option: it is a responsibility to students, staff and alumni. It is about ensuring that the university has a sustainable position in the minds of those on whom its future depends. While a university’s reputation may fluctuate, a brand, properly embedded, should not. The brand should drive everything a university does – it should influence its strategic plans, its capital investments, its range of courses, its student experience and ultimately its academic excellence. A brand is about today and tomorrow, so any communication becomes a judicious balance of credibility and aspiration. Of course, not all universities will approach branding in the same way. If you’ve been building your brand for 800 years and are constantly ranked at the top, your starting point is very different from a university that has only decades of history behind it and struggles to achieve a worthwhile place in the league tables. The higher education sector has its “squeezed middle”, just like the UK economy as a whole. It is here that branding may make a real difference. When so many institutions offer similar courses they lack basic product differentiation. This makes it harder for students (and increasingly parents) to make informed choices. Successful brands aim to separate the wheat from the chaff.

I believe that many universities need to think about and work harder to build innovative methods of provision, relevant course topics, entrepreneurial skills and a rewarding student experience, rather than talking up the same old stuff in the hope of success. For most of us, higher education is a once- or twice-in-a-lifetime purchase that arguably has a more defining effect than any other purchase we make. That means we are not expert shoppers and our purchase decision is a big commitment. Universities therefore need to establish and promote characteristics that stand out, not just nuances. At times the academic world can be too self-referencing and introspective. A fresh look from the outside can be helpful in order to highlight the differences that are hidden from view if you are too close to them. Sometimes developing a brand means taking a controversial stand. Often, successful universities are those that try not to be all things to all people: the more applicants they reject the more desirable they become; the more they concentrate on excellence in chosen disciplines rather than a multiplicity of them, the more they are respected. In a market context that will drive the sector towards consolidation over the next few years, self-awareness, making radical choices and investing in branding could make all the difference.

37 years ago John Lloyd and I arrived at a studio in Kensington, West London to start Lloyd Northover. 37 years later the business is still going. And so am I, except now I'm operating independently as Jim Northover Limited. I am no longer Chairman of Lloyd Northover but will continue to consult with the company, while taking up new opportunities as they arise. The picture shows the two of us taken during the first weeks of business. The optimism remains.

One of the most significant changes in the design world over the last few years has gone largely unremarked. No, it’s not some aspect of technology. It’s words.

Today, designers are required to use the written word to explain, to inform, to narrate, and even to critique. Purely visual interventions are no longer enough. Content and narrative have become vital components in the design mix. The change has been one of stealth, but nonetheless notable.

It’s strange then that the only university in the UK to offer a dedicated postgraduate course in design writing and design criticism is now proposing to write it off, at least in its current form. As one of our leading design institutions, the London College of Communication (whose course I describe) may be suffering a failure of nerve. It seems no longer prepared to risk investment in a pioneering area of study and research, one which anticipates and responds to the growing importance of the written word in design.

Some of those in higher education I’ve spoken to recently see things differently. The big and influential universities, those with international reputations, often take a contrary view of risk. In the face of financial stringency they see the reputational danger in stepping back from the pioneering and the ground-breaking – the things that made them famous in the first place. Arguably, the LCC has been more attuned to the ‘real world’ of design than many of its peers. It has been known internationally for stretching the boundaries of design and responding to change.

Will that reputation survive the long knives?

When I began working at Conran Design Group in 1970 I hardly expected 40 years later to be attending a celebration for its founder’s 80th birthday. Last month Terence Conran invited a group of designer alumni for a private view of the Way We Live Now exhibition and a dinner at the Design Museum.

Back in the 1970s, getting a job at Conran was, arguably, as good as it got. There was a sense of being part of something that was happening around us, the extent of which we did not fully comprehend. Back then there were just a handful of influential design groups, and none better known, thanks to the high street presence of Habitat. Speaking at the dinner Terence Conran bemoaned the UK Government’s lack of support for design, its failure to understand how design could materially impact lives and drive economic growth. Despite his and others’ best efforts, this is sadly true. What is also true is the extent to which Conran has provided a context for how consumers and users of design view the world around us. The notion of something being ‘well designed’ has more meaning and matters more now than ever. We may argue about definitions and qualities, but the general recognition of design has been heightened by the example of this man.

A business trip to Qatar revealed a country in the grip of monumental change. With phenomenal wealth per capita comes an obligation to see beyond today and envisage a world in which the key resource is human.

Not long before it came down I visited the Serpentine Gallery Pavilion, which this year was designed by Swiss architect Peter Zumthor. A black box with dark cloistered corridors lead onto a rectangular garden space by Piet Oudolf.

Probably the most contemplative and least showy of any of the previous pavilions, it provides a context for introspection - a much needed counterpoint to so much signature architecture.

Grape harvest, Les Tannes, Languedoc, France: September 2011

These swallows, sitting on a wire outside my office window, have been summer companions. Having raised two broods, they are now preparing for the long journey south. When it comes to 'wayfinding' the bird brain is lot better than the human one. I hope they'll be back next year.