Lasting legacy
Living Scots who have made a difference
I. Michael Kelly

Barbara Millar
The Miles Better man

Each time I used to drive along the M8 into Glasgow, I would pass the gasometer, near the city centre, upon which was emblazoned that most cheerful of slogans – Glasgow's Miles Better – complete with the Roger Hargreaves' Mr Happy cartoon character. It never failed to raise my spirits. I never failed to return Mr Happy's beaming smile with a broad one of my own.
     But who was the progenitor of this campaign? And who, or what, was Glasgow miles better than?
     It is a real achievement to become a young Lord Provost in Glasgow and there is much to live up to. The youngest, at just 37 years, took up the role back in 1782. He was Patrick Colquhoun, a successful businessman, avid statistician and founder of two prestigious organisations that are with us to this day – the Glasgow Chamber of Commerce, the oldest in Britain, founded in 1783, and the Thames River Police.
     So when Michael Kelly, a former university economics lecturer, became the city's second youngest Lord Provost in 1980, at 40, he was treading in illustrious footsteps.
     The term was for four years. But Lords Provost don't have manifestos, they don't make plans for their years in office. They do not know they will be in this position until their fellow councillors elect them. 'I very quickly realised this was a position with no power. Power rested with the council committees. I couldn't decide to fix a road or open a school, or put funds into this or that,' says Dr Kelly.
     But he also realised that it could be a position of tremendous influence. There was great respect for the city's civic head and he decided to use this influence to effect essential changes.

No-one in Glasgow could have failed to be aware of the plethora of negative newspaper stories about the city in the early '80s. Even film crews arrived, anxious to record for posterity the catalogue of deprivation. Finally, a German guidebook was published, warning its readers to avoid the largest city in Scotland at all costs because it was 'dirty and dangerous'.
     'I was asked to provide a quote in response to this and I thought about it a great deal,' says Dr Kelly. 'The quote I finally gave was that, if this is what people are saying about Glasgow, let's find out if it's true. This really surprised people who were expecting the usual Pavlovian response of condemning the German guidebook out of hand.
     Dr Kelly had recently visited New York for the first time, and was impressed by the 'I Love New York' campaign. In terms of urban problems, New York's were far worse than Glasgow's with high rates of crime, and much more deprivation and squalor. But none of that impacted on the dynamic, glamorous image the American city was able to project, or alienated conference organisers or tourists, who were bringing in all-important revenue.
     The 'I Love New York' campaign was clearly working. But would it translate to Glasgow? Michael Kelly believed it would. He knew it was important to draw attention to the positives Glasgow had to offer – the stunning Victorian buildings, the world-class Burrell collection, the inspirational art and architecture of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, the two impressive universities. So he invited a limited number of journalists, laid on a civic limousine and took them to the parts of the city he wanted them to see.
     It paid off. The journalists returned with a completely different impression of the city and started to file positive stories. This began to help to change the image of Glasgow in the wider world. But Dr Kelly wanted a more permanent foundation for change. With the help of the now-defunct Sunday Standard, he ran a competition, involving local people in coming up with a slogan to kick-start a campaign.
     The competition winner was the wife of the Rev. John MacNaughton, moderator of the Glasgow Presbytery. Mrs McNaughton had come up with 'Glasgow Makes Me Smile' – which certainly conveyed a friendly city, but still didn't have quite the oomph he was seeking.
     An advertising agency was brought on board and its first attempt was 'Go with Glasgow'. He admits that he almost gave up at this point, but the agency had another shot and this time the slogan was spot on: 'Glasgow's Miles Better'.
     The phrase is a good example of a null comparative. Better than what? Than its reputation? Than it used to be? The Scotsman insisted that it meant Better Than Edinburgh. 'This had never crossed my mind,' Dr Kelly insists. Roger Hargreaves agreed to the use of his Mr Happy cartoon character and the campaign was born.
     Another imported idea from the United States adopted by Michael Kelly was the car bumper sticker. He had 25,000 printed and distributed free through local garages at the launch of the campaign and, within a weekend, they were virtually all gone.
     'They'd gone out on the Friday and when I was driving to work on the Monday I could see these stickers everywhere,' he says. 'This indicated to me that Glaswegians were ready to say something positive about their city. This campaign was allowing them to articulate their pride. I had not foreseen that. I had been concentrating on aiming the campaign externally, I had not realised what impact it would have on Glaswegians themselves.'
     The campaign was comparatively cheap. It cost around £100,000 initially, which Dr Kelly had to raise from the private sector as it was a civic initiative rather than a council one. However, by the second year, the council was less chary and did contribute some funds.
    
Its success was tangible. Hard on the heels of Glasgow's Miles Better came the Garden Festival in 1988. But it was Glasgow's anointing as the City of Culture in 1990 which was particularly impressive. Its rivals for the title were already cultural icons – Edinburgh, Bath, York. But when the team who would make the decision came to visit Glasgow, all the stops were pulled out.
     'We had assembled everyone who would be important to the year of culture,' Dr Kelly explains. 'Scottish Ballet, Scottish Opera, hotels, the Chamber of Commerce, community leaders, everyone who wanted to do their bit for Glasgow. We had the full phalanx of every section of Glasgow society behind the effort. When Edinburgh met the team they turned up with a couple of councillors.'
     Those who came to Glasgow during that year went back and spread the word throughout the world – that Glasgow was an exciting, vibrant, friendly city with a wealth of rich culture. After this Glasgow was never going to slip back into its old image of razor-gangs, slums and desperate poverty.
     The campaign also delivered results beyond the cultural heartland, on the still-deprived housing schemes and other neglected areas. 'We increased inward investment and created jobs. And the psychological effects – the pride it created in the city – were important too. It was never designed to be a cure-all for Glasgow's problems, but I didn’t want those problems to be the only things for which Glasgow was known.'
     In 1984 Dr Kelly left the council, as was traditional for Lords Provost at the end of their term, and became Rector of Glasgow University. He later started his own PR business and still writes regularly for the Scotsman. But whatever his personal achievements have been over the past quarter-century, his campaign, his bequest to his home city, has had an impact which continues to echo through the years.

Barbara Millar is a freelance journalist