What Kind of Lighthouse Identity is This?

If December 31st marked the end of a decade we'd rather forget, then the official opening of the world's tallest skyscraper on January 4th seems intent on heralding the dawn of a decade to remember. (Watch a YouTube clip of the opening ceremony's awesome fireworks display by clicking on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qe304CiT6zo&feature=related) The question is, for what will we remember this year and this decade?

Hold that thought for a second. First, the facts: Burj Khalifa, with its 160 stories served by 57 elevators, tops off at 828 metres, surpassing by far the previous tallest tower in the world, Taipei 101 which stands at all of 509 metres. (Wonder how much they have to pay window-washers to entice them up to clean the 24,348 external windows.) The building can accommodate 25,000 people at any one time. Five years in construction, it is a symbol of Dubai's endeavour to diversify from an oil-based economy to one that is tourism- and service-oriented.

Indeed, the world's tallest skyscrapers all seem to be built in tandem with a country's growing economic ascendancy and the local government's efforts to garner international recognition and investment. Just think about Taipei 101 and a previous record-holder, the Petronas Towers.

But here's the thing: The Burj Khalifa could not be launched at a more awkward time in Dubai's history. The city-state has fallen on hard times over the past year or two, caused by the twin torpedoes of the global financial implosion as well as the collective (over)ambition of Dubai's leaders and an expat community paying over-inflated prices for the good life. (You can read a vivid account of Dubai's troubles in a Fast Company article at http://www.fastcompany.com/magazine/38/exodus.html). This latest landmark had to be renamed (it was formerly known as Burj Dubai) in honour of the current ruler of Abu Dhabi and President of the United Arab Emirates, which has had to inject billion-dollar bailouts at critical junctures to keep the project alive. The current massive real estate collapse means that the Burj Khalifa is likely to stay empty for the forseeable future.

I blogged in an earlier post about the competitive advantage of projecting a lighthouse identity -- so that others can know what you stand for, unequivocally. So what kind of lighthouse identity is this signature tower projecting? An iconic, aesthetically attractive and functionally superior symbol of a nation's stature ... or, as a recent Los Angeles Times article more bluntly describes, "the latest in a string of monuments to architectural vacancy"?

Two thoughts occur to me:
1. This is the perfect commercial address for marketers with a long-winded elevator pitch.
2. What are their contingency plans to evacuate someone from the 160th storey in an emergency? (Note to brand marketers: Have a crisis management plan in place.)

On a more grounded note, timing and credibility have as much to do as the nuts and bolts of brand identity (what you say and do as a brand, and how you say and do it) when it comes to crafting and communicating a sustainable brand image. On one level, I can empathize with the building's owners: What would you have done in their shoes? (Post a comment and share your views.) The Burj Khalifa would probably have been universally well-received five years ago ... but the brand story of the Burj unravels for me in these turbulent times; and I, for one, would not want it to be the posterboy for this new decade.

Scarred for Life by a Moment's Folly

Reputation, like credibility, is something that is earned over time. It does not come with the job or title. It is built, day by day, brick by brick. Yet a moment's folly can bring down a lifetime's work.

Just ask Thierry Henry. A professional soccer player, and the most capped and highest scorer in French history, Henry knows just how much it's taken to put together a 15-year body of work that's brought him away from a childhood of poverty to his stratospheric standing - as of last month -- at the pinnacle of soccer immortality.

But that edifice was dealt a severe body blow just over a week ago during a critical World Cup second leg qualifying match against Ireland. With the aggregate score tied at 1-1 and the game in injury time, Henry handled the ball twice with his hand before delivering a cross to William Gallas to score the winning goal for France and send Ireland tumbling out of the World Cup finals in 2010.

Was it an instinctive, accidental handball? Probably. No less a soccer legend than Pele has come out to publicly defend Henry. And the man did lobby for the match to be replayed -- albeit a day later. But all this is scant consolation for the Irish -- some of whose players have lost their only reasonable chance of playing in a World Cup finals.

What Henry should have done -- and what he'll regret not doing for the rest of his life -- is stop the match and overrule the referee. There's been ample precedence in the annals of sport.

In Mats Wilander's very first semi-final appearance in a Grand Slam tennis event (the 1982 French Open), Wilander overruled the chair in a call on match point, giving another lease of life to Jose Luis Clerc. Interviewed after the match (which he eventually claimed), he said, "I didn't want to win like that." For the record, Wilander went on to the win the event, the first of his 7 Grand Slams.

Thierry Henry's personal brand took a severe beating that fateful day -- one from which he may never recover. Instead of Kaka and Messi, his name is going to be more linked with Maradona, the original 'hand of God' perpetrator whose disputed goal helped Argentina beat England 2-1 in the 1986 World Cup quarter-final.

Great brands -- corporate and personal -- hold themselves to high(er) standards. They know that faith is hard won, but easily lost. In a Premier Leage match between West Ham and Everton in 2000, Everton goalie Paul Gerrard went down injured in the penalty box in the dying minutes of the game. Unfortunately, play went on, and the ball got crossed to West Ham's Paulo Di Canio in front of an open goal. Instead of tapping it in, Di Canio caught the ball, and signalled that Gerrard needed attention. The crowd gave him a standing ovation.

We should all be so blessed to have the same presence of mind in such a defining moment.