Dan Douglass on direct

Dan Douglass

Norwich. It's a place that has long suffered the faint odour of provincialism, well masked by illusions of grandeur and ideas well above its station (which, by all accounts, people try hard not to get off at).

Norwich embodies the peculiarly British trait that if you big something up by saying it often enough, people will come to believe in it.

And yet, like any good brand, for people to believe in it, there has to be a truth at its heart. Remember that effusive trail to 'The Sale of The Century?' - Anglia TV's finest hour - the slick gameshow hosted by the debonair Nicolas Parsons almost three decades ago, which marked the beginnings of reality TV? 'Live from Norwich...' teased the excitable announcer,'it's the Quiz of the Week'. We all knew even then that was stretching things a bit. 'From LA, it's the Quiz of the week',yes. 'From Monaco, it's the Quiz of the week', could be. 'From Manchester, it's the Quiz of the Week', unlikely but possible. But 'From Norwich...'?

Since then, the good burghers of Norwich have had to endure a continuous stream of bile projectile vomited at them from media folk.

First it was Steve Coogan in the form of brilliant comic creation Alan Partridge, now it's Glen Roeder, in the form of crap Manager of the Canaries, currently lying gassed and inert at the bottom of a cage that is the relegation zone in the pits of the Coca Cola Championship.

Once upon a time, a couple of millennia ago, Norwich was fashionable - which no doubt would have presented a neat branding solution for a financial services company headquartered in the City, led by fine, upstanding, public-spirited, top-hatted, frock-coated actuaries who, as pillars of the community, would have decided to add the 'Union' bit to reflect their communitarian values. Make no mistake, they had dreams of making the big time with a brand named 'Norwich'. Alas, Boxing Day and New Year 2008/9 has finally killed off that ambition.

Any remaining hopes that the pride of the Fens can compete as a world class city have been well and truly extinguished. It's official. Norwich is uncool. Advertising has spoken. And Norwich Union has re-branded as Aviva. Well, it speaks for itself, doesn't it. Aviva. One of those clever, latinate neologisms - just like Consignia - that communicates dynamic, life-affirming, progressive values without having to spell them out.

The obvious question is not why the marketing folk at Norwich Union have chosen the greatest period of instability and turmoil in UK financial services history to reveal a name change (answer, it's part of a phased global roll-out and therefore has an unstoppable momentum - along with the full endorsement of Amanda MacKenzie, Aviva's Chief Marketing Officer, who states: 'This is the beginning of an even better way of doing things for our customers.".)

No, the real question is why they've asked Bruce Willis to tell us in a highly visible, massively costly TV brand campaign. Surprisingly, the answer isn't that Norwich has never featured in a 'Die Hard' story-line, so would therefore be off Bruce's ISA shopping list. It's a lot less straightforward than that. The point is Bruce Willis wouldn't be half the man he is today if he hadn't changed his name from Walter before he became famous.

Neither would Ringo Starr, whose parents named him Richard Starkey and who subsequently changed his name to that of an extruded potato snack.Or Sir Dame Edna Humphreys-Average known previously as plain Mrs Everage.

Nor, indeed, Alice Cooper, the artist formerly known as Iggy Pop, sorry correction, that should be Vincent Damon Furnier. For the record, Elle Macpherson completes the list as down-home Eleanor Gow (do I look as though I care?).

Which is all very well. But what's all that got to do with Norwich? You see, not only did these smart artistes decide to change their names before they started their careers and ditch their birth-names altogether, but they don't have their alter-egos out there right now living under their real names in the real world, stalking their every move. Unfortunately, Aviva do.

The problem with Norwich Union changing to Aviva is that, unlike Walter Willis, Richard Starkey, Mrs Everage, Vincent Furnier and Eleanor Gow, Norwich still exists. And, short of a nuclear strike or Act of God, it always will.