I write the occasional blog post covering a mix of branding, ethical and political issues but also life in general. The latter includes the challenge of coming to terms with the death of one of my children*. These posts are an honest account of my experience as a bereaved parent* but hold, I hope, an underlying message that it is possible to pick yourself up and keep going even when something awful happens and everything feels pointless.
(*If you’re looking for the journal of my son’s story you can find it at http://hlhsdiary.com/wp/)
This is a post for other bereaved dads, so is unlikely to be of interest to anybody else. As always, it’s unapologetically cathartic and I hope it helps anybody else on this journey. It comes from a good positive place with the best of intentions.
A VE Day inspired post about my mother’s and my uncle’s experiences during the Japanese occupation of Singapore and life as a prisoner of war working on the notorious ‘death railway’ in Burma.
This government of liars and grifters is a desperately low point for British politics.
I never thought that I was the kind of man who needed therapy, even after our son died. It turns out I was wrong. Don’t be too proud – it could save your life.
The ad industry likes to tell us that people want to be ‘engaged’ by brands. No they don’t.
It’s an opinion that puts me out of step with my industry but I can’t help but feel that our obsession with data is damaging our creativity.
Child loss comes with many challenges, and anger has been one of the most debilitating and longest lasting for me.
Our attitude to tax – both HMRC and the tax payer – needs to change.
I’m sorry if I appear angry about my son’s death. I hope this helps to explain why.
If we can turn consumers into citizens we could make a hugely positive contribution to the world.
As a measure of national worth, GDP ignores so much. Gross National Happiness (GNH) might not yet be credible, but it’s time we started looking at alternatives to measuring meaningful human output.
Don’t say these things to a bereaved parent.
The ease with which kids can access online pornography is a ticking time bomb.