Roy Beers: Why Scots small brewer went beserk over a name change saga

"The men of the Northlands sit by their great log fires and tell a tale" (as Noggin the Nog famously began) of a long drawn out bid by the drinks industry's watchdog body, the Portman Group, to banish the face of a valiant old warrior from bottles of Orkney beer.

It's a saga with a Noggin-esque happy ending; the beer bottles keep the label showing the fiercely-named old Viking, and the brand retains its well-regarded name.

Sinclair Breweries' chief Norman Sinclair was remarkably gracious after his victory over the Portman Group this week.

It had sought to "ban" his 8.5% abv draught cask and bottled brand Skull Splitter, on the whimsical basis that the mere name conveyed machismo and aggression of the sort which could incite drunken hooliganism.

Defenders of Viking culture could point to intricate Scandinavian wood carvings and

an impressive literary-poetic tradition - it was a vigorous society, certainly, and artistic with it. It wasn't all about looting monasteries and carrying off women, you know.

It mattered nothing to the Portman Group that ("Mr, to you") Skull Splitter - nickname for Thorfinn Hausacluif - was historically the 7th Viking jarl of Orkney; or that he has as much right to have a beer named after him as, say, Harald Godwinson or Hereward the Wake. Or William the Bastard.

It didn't signify, either, that the typical Skull Splitter drinker is over 35, possibly a member of CAMRA, and has exceedingly good taste in the matter of high quality strong beer. Of the sort you can savour by a great log fire.

Exactly why it has taken the Portman Group so many years to discover this potentially havoc-wreaking brand is a mystery, but perhaps what's most encouraging about the story is the overwhelming support for the brewery and its beer, with prominent politicians joining the clamour for Skull Splitter's survival.

This week logic prevailed and the group's independent panel effectively said "case dismissed".

Surely there could have been no other sensible option. It's one thing to hound maverick brands which hint at aggression or sexual prowess, and are clearly aimed at the young; and quite another to tamper with a long-established British penchant for

oddball beer names.

Norman Sinclair has had the threat of banishment for poor old Thorfinn hanging over him for months, because to rebrand an established product is notoriously tricky and expensive, and can prove fatal to brand recognition.

I possibly shouldn't mention it, but the Hebridean Brewery's brand Berserker could find itself to be another suitable case for treatment - this time the name refers to the Norse warriors who could be relied upon to "go berserk" at the onset of battle.

But again I'm pleased to say there is a cast iron defence. The brand icon is one of the famous walrus ivory Isle of Lewis medieval Norse chess pieces. It's a rook depicted by a warrior biting the rim of his shield in fury, as described in Viking chronicles.

With his pointy helmet and staring eyes this piece was definitely the inspiration for the immortal Noggin the Nog himself, but that's neither here nor there.

The point is that the beer advertises its home area's archaeological and cultural heritage - it's not urging people to run amok. Berserker is evidently a quality brew, too, as it won CAMRA's Champion Winter Beer of Scotland title in 2006.

In Mr Sinclair's case, with Skull Splitter, the result was the main thing - "the best Christmas present we could have received" - and that was the end of the matter.

However as you'll have noticed in recent Publican reports a number of other brands were also let off the hook, and at least one of the owners was much less forgiving.

Scottish-based niche brewer BrewDog says straightforwardly that it beat the Portman Group, which it wants to close down, after an eight month "David and Goliath battle".

A key argument is the claim that the Group ultimately represents the owners of large brands, so can't be truly objective about small independent producers - but that's a contention it would surely strongly deny.

Without going into the whole saga in detail suffice to say three BrewDog brands - Riptide, Punk IPA and Hop Rocker - could have been subject to a Portman Group retailer alert had the original complaint been upheld.

The entrepreneurs behind BrewDog say the decision in their favour supports their demand for the watchdog body to be disbanded altogether.

Here's how a "jubilant" managing director James Watt reacted to the news: "It's incredible to think that with all the issues there are with alcohol in society, the Portman Group spent eight months chasing us over words on a bottle.

"Surely the Group must be taking a long hard look at itself and wondering what its reason for existing is this morning?

"This is a victory for common sense, the intelligence of the consumer, small independent producers and freedom of speech; it is a victory that BrewDog had to fight tooth and nail for.

"We refused to roll-over and be bullied into changing our packaging. We were determined and stood our ground to keep our dream and our business alive."

For good measure he has renewed his call for the Group to be scrapped, claiming

"It remains completely toothless in the face of the real issues and problems, which underpin irresponsible alcohol consumption in the UK."

By this he could mean the perceived effect of discounted supermarket drink, or any of the other issues the big drinks firms don't appear able to influence.

At the same time Diageo was roundly castigated in Scottish press reports the other week, quite unfairly, when it was disclosed there was a representative of the firm on an important government alcohol action body.

There were howls of righteous wrath that a wicked drinks company should dare to involve itself with projects like mass-awareness safe drinking messages - or, presumably, good practice award schemes like Best Bar None.

Which begs the question: other than refusing to deal with traders who sell company wares at bargain prices what can the big drinks firms do to make a useful contribution to the alcohol agenda?

The Portman Group could point out that of the brands originally collared as looking potentially dodgy 21 were hastily withdrawn or revamped, meaning the exercise wasn't completely pointless.

But while the BrewDog chief may be angry and splenetic, his basic point is sound. The casual accusation laid at Skull Splitter's great log door was also silly and potentially damaging.

It should never have developed into an explicit threat against the brand name, and there should never have been any need for a high profile campaign to keep that name.

Meanwhile the Portman Group risks looking happy to use a rifle to shoot mosquitoes at a time when there are plenty of real alcohol problems to deal with.

It also has to consider the potential harm it can do to perfectly respectable businesses by putting brand names in the frame, when cursory initial research would show there is absolutely no need.

Instead it should target the sort of white "cider" cheapies used only by under-18's and problem drinkers, the venues which persist in trading up to larger size measures, and

of course any form of marketing which reeks of a bid to encourage binge drinking - and let the Skull Splitters and BrewDogs of the world go about their business in peace.

This column is respectfully dedicated to the memory of Oliver Postgate, creator of Noggin the Nog (and Bagpuss, Ivor, etc), b. Apr 12 1925, d. Dec 8 2008.