I wake up, grab my iPhone, and dive into the familiar morning dose of brain rot. YouTube. Regrettable. Still, at least I finished a book last night, Kim Sherwood’s A Spy Like Me. I preferred it to Double or Nothing. [Spoiler Alert, if you haven’t read these. You have been warned…] The latter got a 3-star rating from me; this one’s a solid 4. The characters are far more relatable, and the most frustrating character of the series gets a satisfying twist at the end. Bond is back, and he’s shooting at her.
I know that the sorts of Bond fans who live in comment sections and forums, will cheer at the thought of her demise at the hands of the “real hero.” I feel similarly, though probably for reasons that differ from theirs. So, why the vitriol toward Kim Sherwood or her standout character, Joanne Harwood? Subtle.
The criticisms boil down to a few loaded labels: short-haired, feminist vibes, woke.
I’m tired of the anti-woke sentiment. It’s just noise, largely from people who once held power over others like me and now resent that we’ve surpassed them. Tough. It certainly was not easy for me to get here. Society didn’t hand me anything. I clawed my way up with leverage, endless reading, and struggle. All the while capitalising on every lucky break. If you’re upset, read Antifragile. You might find it useful.
Back to my morning YouTube binge. Steve Jobs stares at me from the cover of Walter Isaacson’s biography, accusingly, as if to say, The answers you’re looking for are all in here.
I hear you, Steve. I’ll see you at lunchtime.
Now, what caught my eye today? Oh, right. Jaguar’s new ad. Or JaGuar, however they’re (mis)styling it. It’s… not great. Even my wife, who’s more lenient than I am, isn’t buying it. She (we) supports the people it portrays but not the concept. Why? She doesn’t identify with it. And let’s be honest: who does?
Here’s the gist: a British heritage car brand adopts a neon palette and omits any mention of cars, focusing instead on “alt-people.” Don’t get me wrong, the best people I know fit that mould. They’re thoughtful, courteous, and drive Fords and Corsas. Sensible people. Salt of the earth. No slander here.
But if Jaguar is targeting them, they’d better start with prices. The rainbow coalition in the ad looks far too polished to represent my friends. And a car ad without cars? That suggests they want people to identify with the brand, not the product. This is potentially because they are not currently making any cars. But people buy cars, not brands. At least in Britain. Ironically, the customers who buy brands first are the ones Jaguar already has. Think shiny WAGs and tanned lads in sporty sweats.
Take Deano, for example. He’s out on a dinner date with Katie at Wagamama. She’s wearing a tight white dress that clings to every breath. He’s in a full tracksuit, looking his sartorial best. The date goes well…flirty banter, shared laughs. She’s impressed. He checks the time on his Submariner, and she notices. Idyllic.
Until they leave. His car? A blacked-out Vauxhall Adam. Katie couldn’t stop talking before, but now she says nothing, because Britain. When they reach her front door, he doesn’t get an invite inside. She smiles, flashes her impossibly white teeth, and says, “Text me, yeah?”
Deano drives home, deflated. What went wrong? He’s dressed to impress. Stone Island head to toe, gym pump and fit on point, fresh skin fade. Surely it couldn’t be his personality. Then it hits him: the car.
Fast-forward three years. Deano and Katie are now engaged. He drives a shiny white Jag. He knows nothing about it, but it’s big, and Katie gave him another chance after spotting him with it outside Tiger Tiger.
So how does Jaguar get their new target demographic, broke creatives with cool hair, to pull a Deano and blindly buy their cars?
They’re banking on inclusivity: “Everyone is welcome, so everyone will buy here.” It’s admirable, but I prefer Volkswagen’s approach. Sell the experience, the generations of reliability and care.
Jaguar, meanwhile, has wandered into the culture war. The no man’s land where brands go to die. Maybe it’s a bold attempt to spark a national conversation about identity. Maybe it’s a spoof for attention? Fine. But they’d better sell some cars, or it’s all for nothing.
Ultimately, it’s the same old tug of war between polarised factions. Ray Dalio warned about the history of societies that can’t agree on anything. Discourse devolves into amplified internet outrage in this version, and we’re heading for ruin. Take a look at the comments section of any nuanced breakdown of the ad. You’ll find the usual suspects: “Woke garbage!” “I’ll never buy a Jaguar now!”
Let’s be real…you were never going to, mate.
I’ve often wondered about the salaries of YouTube commenters. Where do they find the time? Meanwhile, I’m behind on posting and I’m trying to get this to pay!
The world is changing. It’s not my world, though. I don’t live in the purple utopia that these creative directors envision. Nor do I identify with the angry gammon aesthetic of tortured men in red hats and scruffy old Jeeps. I’m fortunately somewhere in the middle. I wear grey fatigues from N.Peal, and grey Reigning Champ, and Sunspel basics. My idea of adventurous is a tan trucker hat with a little Red Devil, I picked it up at a bar on a mountain while snowboarding in the French Alps. “Le Diable au Coeur”
Neither future represents me, and that’s fine. I’ll thrive in whatever version of society I find myself in. Because getting triggered is silly when you’re the one holding the gun. That’s our job, control what you can, and be adaptable. It can certainly feel like there’s a strange game of Tug of War at play. A loud few from either side pull and sends all the rest of us into these wild directions. Tiny pulls from the radical hit the middle and create seismic shifts.
Ironic that Sherwood’s A Spy Like Me feels like a mirror to all this. Elements of the story may feel insufferable, no doubt. But the payoff made her story worth the irritation. Like the culture war, we wade through noise to uncover value, even if that value isn’t exactly what you were expecting.
I didn’t agree with every choice Sherwood made in the book, but she gets it. No one needs to fit into anyone’s neat little box. Bond shooting at Harwood wasn’t just a satisfying plot point, it was a reminder that stories, even the polarizing ones, are complex and worth further dissecting.
And maybe that’s what Jaguar’s trying to do? To craft a story that reflects modern complexity, even if they’re getting it wrong. Like Sherwood, they’ll have to win people over one chapter, one ad, at a time. And some people (on both sides) simply are not willing to listen.
Here’s the thing: whether we like the direction or not, the story is already moving forward.
For the record, Sherwood stuck the landing in book three: Kim Sherwood’s Hurricane Room.
Originally written for TIME 2 LIVE AGAIN, NOVEMBER ’24