Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Australia, China, Dad, Death, Family, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
I think my Mum would be strangely happy that I almost forgot to write this post today.
And I did … only realizing last weekend today was the 11th anniversary of my Mum dying.
It’s not even the first time this has happened …
So how come I nearly forgot today – one of the worst days of my entire life – and why do I think Mum be happy about it?
Well, let’s do the practical reasons first …
I write this blog weeks in advance and so sometimes I don’t even think about the date they will appear, I just load them up to be automatically put out. That said, I’ve never nearly forgotten when it is Dad’s anniversary … however that’s a bit different to Mum’s in so much as he died in mid-January and so that tends to be one of the first posts I write every year, coming out the festive holiday season.
But that’s more of an assumptive rationale …
The fact is both my parents blessed me with an amazing childhood and upbringing. I’ve written so much about them over the years – from their endless encouragement to their demonstration of what love really means – and the loss of them was, without doubt, the hardest and biggest challenges I’ve ever had to face and deal with in my life.
But Dad died first – 16 years before Mum – and while I’d experienced the death of people close to me before, that was the one that was the most direct in terms of impact, importance and shock. It meant it took me years before I could think of Dad as the Dad I grew up with … rather than the person he became after his stroke robbed him of who he was and how he was.
But Dad’s passing opened up the ability for Mum and I to talk about death … and we did. A lot.
Not in an ‘impending doom’ kind-of-way … more in terms of the reality of what we’d faced and had to accept and learn.
It meant this was very much top of mind when Mum was going in for her operation. Maybe not spoken about openly, but definitely something that was in eachother’s minds. In fact, it was only after Mum had died – when the operation to extend her life, sadly failed due to a childhood issue that had gone undiagnosed – that I discovered just how much Mum had been thinking about it.
That she had written me ‘notes’ in case the worst happened – featuring information I’d need to make organizing her estate easier – is still one of the most powerful demonstrations of unconditional love I’ve ever seen. Though it still breaks my heart how she must have felt writing them – knowing that she was having to face her own mortality, on her own, while I was on the other side of the planet.
That said – as I wrote the morning she died – we’d found a lovely rhythm in the final few years.
We’d always had a wonderful relationship but there was a period where a few niggles had entered our interactions … nothing much, just a little tension caused by me wanting to take care of her and her wanting to fiercely protect her independence and have me look after myself and my future more. But we’d got past that by realizing both us were coming from a place of love … so we made allowances for each others needs, which meant she let me put money in her bank account every month and I didn’t mind that she never spent a penny of it. Haha.
And while the days leading up to her death will be forever burned in my mind, my memory of Mum has never been stuck in that period, like it was for Dad for all those years. I don’t know why but I’m grateful for it.
Maybe it’s because I became better equipped emotionally after Dad died?
Maybe it’s because Otis was born 3 months before Mum passed and so that period was consumed with happy thoughts throughout that time?
Or maybe it’s because I’d seen Mum a lot before she died – every month for 6 months or so – and so saw the impact of her heart condition on her health – meaning it was less of a surprise to me, even though I thought the operation was going to make things better?
Who knows … but while today will always be significant in my mind, it’s not the main thing that immediately comes to mind. Instead I think of the conversations we had when I came to visit … the pasta she would lovingly make for me … the look of happy surprise on her face when I turned up unannounced from Australia … the tennis she’d play with me on the patio in the back garden in summer when I was a small kid … the joy on her face when she learned she was going to be a Grandma … the stories she would tell me of the films or comedians or concerts she’d gone to see … the quiet contentment we felt when we were in the same room together, even if nothing was being said.
I think of those things WELL before anything to do with her dying.
I think of her grace, her kindness, her love, her curiosity, and her compassion.
I think of how much I wish she could see the grandson she never met, but adored.
I think of how she will never know I lived in America and back in England and now NZ.
I think of how she would react to Bonnie. [And the news of Rosie]
I think of how she would react to ‘healthy me’.
I think of how lucky I was – and am – to be able to call her my Mum.
And that’s why, I am sure Mum would be happy that I almost forgot to write this post …
Because it means her memory is alive and present in my life and that means she achieved what she hoped for most in her life.
That she was a good Mum.
And she was. And still is.
I miss you Mum. I hope you’re with Dad, holding hands.
I love you.
Filed under: Australia, Emotion, England, Family, Love, Loyalty, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood
Someone recently asked me what I was proud of.
Specifically, what I had done in my life, that had made me proud.
I took a long time thinking about it.
Not because I had to run through a cavalcade of possible answers, but because when I took away the things that made me proud by association rather than personal involvement – like family and friends – there wasn’t a lot left.
After what seemed about an hour, I said 3 things.
That I had got healthy.
That I had managed to have a career.
That I had stayed true to who I was in pretty much all I did and do.
Take away the fact I only got heathy in the last 2 years and maybe that’s not a lot to be proud of for almost 55 years of life. But then, how many things should there be? What are the sort of things that can even be considered?
If the question was, ‘who are YOU proud of’ … I’d be here all week, rattling away names of people directly in my life or in my consciousness. But when it’s about what am I proud of doing … there’s not much.
It made me wonder if this means I’m hard on myself, down on myself or just a bit thick?
I’m sure if I was to ask Jill or my parents, they’d highlight a bunch of things I should be considering. But I must admit, I quite like that there’s not much that springs to mind. Not because I’m a sadist, but hopefully because it means I’m a realist.
You see over the years, I’ve met countless people who told me – with full sincerity – that they ‘knew’ they were going to be rich/successful/famous. And when I’d ask why – or how – they’d just reply with, “I just know”.
I always looked at them with a sense of awe.
I found their confidence of conviction amazing.
Because while I loved the idea that maybe one day, I may be successful at something, I never for once thought it was preordained. Shit like that didn’t happen to kids from Nottingham – oh no. If I wanted to stand a chance of achieving anything – however small – it would need me to graft for it.
And yet I distinctly remember my parents once worrying I didn’t have a good work ethic.
To be fair, I did go through a phase where I liked to stay in my bed. A lot.
On the other hand, I was about 14 years old, so did it really matter?
Well to my parents it did and while they didn’t give me chores around the home, they did have expectations of how I would behave.
That I’d go after the things that were important to me.
That I’d work hard to learn and experience all I could.
That I’d give my all in all I explored.
That I’d chase fulfillment over easy contentment.
The older I get, the more I realise how brilliant they were in how they raised me … because while they placed these expectations on my behaviour, they did it without ever making me feel pressure to ‘achieve’. In fact they were perfectly fine if I failed … the main focus was that I never phoned it in.
To them, laziness was an act of disrespect.
Not just to those who were giving you the opportunity, but to yourself.
I get why that was the case … because they had to work for every little thing they got.
Like, proper work for it.
In every part and period of their life, they faced trials and tribulations … which explains why it was so important to them I went into the things that mattered 100%. And when they sensed I was doing that, they would back me 100% … even if they didn’t really like what I was doing.
It’s why Dad backed me to become a musician, even though he wished I’d become a lawyer. It’s why Mum encouraged me to still move to Australia, even though Dad just had a terrible stroke. It’s why they supported me when I told them I didn’t want to go to university, even though it had been a dream of theirs.
For them, graft was a demonstration of taking something seriously … so maybe that’s another thing I can feel proud of because I never took the opportunities Mum and Dad created or sacrificed for me, for granted. I loved them far too much for that.
Thanks Mum. Thanks Dad.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Community, Corporate Evil, Creativity, Culture, Delusion, Education, Egovertising, Food For Thought, Imposter Syndrome, Individuality, Influencers, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Mediocrity, Planners, Planners Making A Complete Tit Of Themselves And Bless, Planning, Professionalism, Reputation, Strategy, Sydney, Yahoo
A few weeks ago, I went to Sydney where I had the very real honour of spending a few days mentoring a bunch of talented people who were all relatively new to the industry.
One of the things that I heard from quite a few of them was the pressure they felt to build their reputation as a ‘thought leader’ on platforms like LinkedIn.
After telling them that a good 90% of what you read on there is nothing more than ego landfill [of which I am perfectly placed to make that statement given I’ve been spouting rubbish on the internet for over 20 years] … the reality is the best reputations are built on what you do, not what you say.
But I get it.
When you’re starting out, you’re desperate for professional acceptance and/or validation so you can find yourself blindly following whatever or whoever is currently popular amongst your peers – even more so if you’re based outside of the big cities where so much of the industry focus is concentrated.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying there is anything wrong with expressing your thoughts and ideas.
Frankly, it can be a brilliant way to learn, evolve and grow.
Hell, one of the best things about doing this blog for so long is seeing how some of my opinions have changed or been honed through the feedback/commentary/abuse I’ve received from so many people on here.
Of course, it helps that most were/are very smart and talented, but I fully acknowledge their input to my output has had a huge impact on what I do and how I think. But – and it’s a very big but – you only get real value out of expressing your thoughts and ideas if you’re doing it because [1] you want to – rather than feel you have to – and [2] you never adopt a tone of self-righteous, condescending, smugness.
If you do that, you may as well have a blinking neon sign over your head that screams, ‘Delusional, egotistical, blinkered dickhead’.
[I say ‘dickhead’ because, sadly, 95% of these sorts of people are men. White men.]
And yet, despite this, there’s still a hell-of-a-lot of people out there who adopt a tone that suggests they believe everything they do – and I mean EVERYTHING – is ‘unquestionably and undeniably right’ and anyone who dares to have a counter point of view, regardless of their experience, success or knowledge of their industries history, is automatically wrong.
A certain academic is a poster child for this sort of behaviour.
With these people, I always remember something my old man used to say, which was: “if someone needs to let others know how smart they are, they’re not that smart” – or said another way – if you meet someone who wants to be seen as a thought leader, they’re probably not and they probably won’t be.
Which is why the best advice I can give is to say ‘be you and no one else’.
I get the desire to feel like you belong.
I appreciate popularity has seemingly become more important than experience these days.
But if you ever feel pressured into writing on Linkedin because that’s what ‘thought leaders do’, remember this quote from Dennis Thatcher and save your energy for when you do have something to say or explore.
“It’s better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt”.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Ambition, America, Amsterdam, Asia, Attitude & Aptitude, Auckland, Australia, Bands, Billionaire, Birkenhead, Bonnie, Campaign Magazine, Canada, Career, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Context, Corporate Evil, Creativity, Culture, Dog, Dream Small, Easter, Empathy, England, Experience, Family, Fashion, Fatherhood, Hong Kong, Japan, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Management, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Michael Jordan, Miley, Mr Ji, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nike, Otis, Paul, Paula, R/GA, Relationships, Rockstar Games, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore, Sunshine, Sydney, The Kennedys, The Kennedys Shanghai, UK, Virgin Atlantic, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
I have written before that apart from my friend Paul, I owe almost everything in my life to the fact I left the UK and went on an adventure.
Without that, I would not have met my wife … would not have had my son … would not have had my pets … would not be working with rock stars … would not have had all the life experiences and adventures I’ve been fortunate to enjoy and almost certainly would not have the career I currently enjoy.
That’s pretty huge when you think about it and while there’s a whole list of people I need to thank for making it all possible, one of them is an old boss.
Who was a prick.
I had a rather complex relationship with this individual.
Because while they were pompous, petty, condescending and rude, they were also smart, knowledgable and experienced.
On top of that, they gave me a shot on a couple of projects that they probably shouldn’t have. I should point out that wasn’t because they necessarily believed in me – it was more there was no one else to do it – but I appreciated it all the same.
Anyway, when I decided to leave – to go explore opportunities in another country – they were pretty pissed off with me.
While I’d love to say it was because they didn’t want me to go, the reality was they were frustrated I was leaving after they’d agreed to give me a payrise.
That this ‘rise’ was still below market rate and they’d fucked me around for literally 2 years, seemed to have completely slipped their mind … which is maybe why on the day I left, they thought it would be ‘funny’ to write the following comment in my leaving card.
“You’ll be back. Come crawling”.
I remember watching him going around telling people what he had written, laughing hilariously at his own ‘joke’ and while I didn’t take it too much to heart – because everyone knew he was a bit of a prick – it still hurt.
Little did I know then, how those 5 little words would play such an pivotal role in how my career would turn out.
You see, when I ended up in this other country, I initially found it very difficult.
Not just because I didn’t have friends, contacts or a job … but because my Dad was very ill back in the UK.
In all honesty, the temptation to go back was huge but there were 2 reasons I stuck it out.
1. I wanted to show my gratitude to my parents for supporting and encouraging me to go, despite them going through a terribly tough time because of my Dad’s major stroke.
2. Those 5 little words.
While I’d like to think the former was the biggest motivator, I fear it may have been the latter.
That’s pretty pathetic isn’t it … especially as I could have gone back without having to go back to that old job.
But I wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction directly or indirectly.
And so I persevered.
Pushed, prodded, walked the streets, did shitty, temporary roles … anything that kept me from gaving to go back with my tail betweeen my legs.
And it everntually worked out.
Not because of any talent I did or did not have, but because of my perseverence.
And willingness to take any bullshit salary … hahaha.
But for me, getting a break was my main objective … because while I knew I was not the smartest strategst, I knew my work ethic meant I could out-work most.
Now don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that is a toxic trait – but it is my trait – and back then, it was a way for me to prove my worth to agencies/clients who didn’t have to give me a chance or keep me on board.
Of course, over the years, my motivation for continuing to explore the possibilities of the World and my career have evolved.
These days it is far more about wanting to feel I’d be making my parents proud than it is me reacting to 5 little words from a toxic, little manager.
But I also have to acknowledge that without that persons toxic motivation, it is unlikely I would be in the situtation I currently enjoy.
So thank you AC … you were a strange little man, but for all the fucked up shit you did – and there was plenty – you did one thing right, even if it was wrong.
And while I doubt you even remember me – let alone care what I’ve done – it doesn’t matter.
Because I didn’t come back and didn’t come crawling and so for that, I won, so there.
It’s Easter long-weekend that then leads into a big week for me/Colenso – from us hosting Fergus and his OnStrategy podcast to me saying goodbye [for the second time] to someone who is very special to me … so have a great weekend, overeat Chocolate and Hot Cross Buns and I’ll see you Tuesday.
Till then, this is for you AC.
With thanks.
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Bank Ads, Brand, Brand Suicide, Clients, Comment, Confidence, Context, Corporate Evil, Corporate Gaslighting, Customer Service, Finance, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Perspective, Relationships, Reputation, Service, Standards
So, I have been a customer of ING Bank in Australia, for over 30 years.
THIRTY.
Given I have moved countries so often, I have had to update my country of residence many times – so when I received an email in December, asking me to ‘check my information’ for the banks legal requirements, I took it all in my stride.
Unsuprisingly, my information was – having updated it when we moved to NZ – was up to date and when I confirmed, I got a notification telling me all was good.
So imagine my surprise when in January, I received this …
I have no idea why my ‘document’ was not accepted, when [1] at the time it said it was and [2] it is the same one they have had on file for years – but I went to the website, as they requested, to provide another only to find this when I logged in.
ACCOUNT INACTIVE.
The bank, without letting me know in advance, had frozen my bank account.
Ice cold. Can’t access my money. Can’t spend my money.
What the actual fuck?!
To make matters even worse, they didn’t have any place where I could ‘update’ my information and so I found myself on hold for THREE HOURS.
Now, I appreciate there is anti-money laundering rules that need to be maintained but there’s 3 things I don’t understand.
Why did they freeze my account before asking me for other paperwork?
Why wasn’t my paperwork accepted given it has been fine for decades?
Why don’t they get their own shit in order before bullying their customers …
What do I mean by that last point?
2018 Dutch Settlement:
ING paid €775 million to settle charges with the Netherlands Public Prosecution Service for allowing clients to launder money for years, citing serious flaws in their counter-terrorism financing systems.
Systemic Failures:
Prosecutors identified instances where accounts were used for illicit activities, such as a lingerie trader laundering €150 million, which the bank’s systems should have flagged.
Regulatory Action:
The Dutch Central Bank oversaw corrective actions, and ING accepted responsibility, vowing to improve compliance.
Executive Liability:
While the large fine resolved the organizational charges, Dutch prosecutors later dropped criminal cases against former executives, including CEO Ralph Hamers, due to insufficient evidence for criminal liability, though they noted insufficient steps were taken.
2025:
ING faced new scrutiny in early 2025 over its role in a case involving former EU Commissioner Didier Reynders, with investigations into whether the bank failed to report suspicious activities related to him.
Other Jurisdictions:
ING Spain also received a fine in March 2025 for serious AML failings.
Yep, the bank that wants its customers to comply with money laundering rules has consistently failed to comply with money laundering rules … except where mine was a paperwork issue, theirs was an illegal activity issue.
Financial institutions consistently like to present themselves as ‘caring about their customers’, but the reality is the vast majority only care about themselves and their richest customers.
In that order.
Is it any surprise so many people are turning to things like bitcoin?
Sure, the risks are high but at least there’s a chance you could strike it rich whereas with so many financial institutions, they use fees, interest rates and access to keep so many exactly where they are.
Or worse.
Now I appreciate I am generalizing here.
I get many of the people who work in banks are decent people who are caught in the same situation as many out there. [And the person I dealt with at ING was very helpful and understanding … even when I took her through all of ING’s ‘mistakes]
But when people feel they are forever being spoken at, rather than listened to … there’s a point where people have as much interest in financial organizations as they offer their customers.
Which, according to a letter I received from ANZ Australia, is 0.01%.
The banking system operates on trust and confidence. What a shame those principals don’t extend to how banks see customers. Especially customers who have never done anything wrong for 3 bloody decades.
Well, ING lost one today.
Not because they wanted more paperwork from me but because they made a decision – that could have had a huge impact on me – without even discussing it with me. And if they can do that over a relatively minor issue, which – let’s not forget – their system had told me was ‘upto date’, then why would I ever believe I can trust my money is safe with them?