Not Black & White: A Fan's Feelings on Guinness' Box Office Boom

By Andrew Dunn, Strategy Director

When asked to name my favorite drink for our agency’s upcoming cocktail book, I looked past our impressive client bar cart of spirits brands, followed my heart, and submitted:

A proper pint of Guinness.

Complete with detailed steps of how to achieve the “proper” part.

It’s my go-to, whether the rugby’s on or not. 

Hours lost salivating like Pavlov’s pooch as I wait for the “two-part pour” in bars across the world (gimmick or not, I’m all-in). 

I’ve followed Guinness’ growth from on-trade uncertainty — finding a good pint was like hearing your favorite niche band on the radio — to its omnipresence and recent launch of what I call The Guizmo (AKA Nitrosurge), which means even us humble mortals can pour a pretty decent pint at home. I’m even really good at the OG way to “Split the G.”  

To me, it’s more than a drink.

It’s a ritual.

An experience.

And crucially, a differentiated choice.

It’s a taste that’s not for everyone — a product truth that offered a rich creative vein for decades. From Rutger Hager’s “Pure Genius” spots of the ‘80s, the iconic “Good things…” creative of the ‘90s, and the 2012 pivot to Made of More's true stories of character, Guinness has maintained that it’s the alternative. There’s always been some decoding or, at the very least, attention required. We used a similar approach at Sidecar with Laphroaig Single Malt Scotch when we created their Opinions Welcome campaign. Another product and brand with the strength of character to admit it’s proudly not for everyone.

Then, last month, Jason Momoa burst in…and I’m torn.

It’s a major play for the U.S. mainstream beer consumer that the drinks marketer in me admires…but as a long-time Guinness drinker it makes me shift in my barstool.

Momoa’s spot is inspired by a lovely insight into the excitement in the U.S. of having Celtic roots. It connects Guinness with unexpected places (a sushi restaurant) and times (“it’s a lovely day,” not night). And it revives an old line that only true fans would appreciate.

But it’s told with a Hollywood presence, polish, and pace with the cheesy can-opens and grins you’d expect from big beer in this market. 

It’s a simple tale, tangibly told — not abstracted by artists into “Surfer” and “Dreamer” parables. 

Simple tales, compellingly told.

And it made me realize Guinness isn’t just for me anymore.

It’s for people who watched Game of Thrones, Aquaman and Dune. 

It’s for everyone.

On the one hand, I’m well aware of the brand’s growth — and I’m proud of it. Crowned No. 1 beer in UK pubs last year, the secret is well and truly out. Matching its growth, Guinness campaigns have become less esoteric in the last decade. 

I feel a little like how die-hard Kate Bush fans felt when she found pop-grade success in Stranger Things. My acquired taste is now adopted by a mainstream audience who hadn’t earned it the way I had.

To make matters even more confusing, the more popular it’s become, the better my liquid experience has been. Not only can I find it everywhere, but as bars serve more of it, the lines stay clear and the kegs sit around for less time, meaning a fresher pint for me in more places. Practically guaranteeing me good Guinness wherever I go.

But is this the final moment that Guinness moves from cult to mainstream? And where does that leave me and my love of the taste and differentiating kudos it has given me in every gulp?

What happens next is something both I and the industry are pondering.

Does Guinness continue its arc of invincibility, growing to be the No. 1 beer in the U.S.? The Budweiser of Stout.

As a result, does it formalize Stout as a more nuanced category — with expectations and excitement in the concept of choice? Might Stout become “the next IPA?” With the explosion of a fully-formed craft scene with multiple brands, taps, and expressions.

Has the revolution already begun? There are more and more craft brewers experimenting with their own (Left Hand, 4 Hands and Goose Island) — recognizing that Guinness’ meteoric rise in popularity was driven in part by a broader shift towards more bitter tastes (evidenced in the growth of my second favorite tipple, the Negroni, and to a greater extent, its Spritzy cousin).

There’s also a more defined new wave (vintage Guinness pun intended) of upstarts chomping at the bit to eat into Guinness’ Stout monopoly. From Conor McGregor’s Forged (“Irish Stout should be Irish owned”), beer-punk behemoth BrewDog’s Black Heart (“toucan play that game”), and internationally-adored Guinfluencer Prime Mutton’s choice London Black…they are unashamedly coming for the harp.

…and what of a couple of sleeping giants? Beamish and Murphy’s both have a history in stout that dates back centuries. Both hail from County Cork — known as the “Rebel County” in Ireland. A brand storyteller’s dream.

Or will another brand lay claim to the “alt status” with esoteric work that needs decoding, making their own “black stuff” the distinctive, not-for-all choice? Because, as Rutger Hauer said in a Guinness ad back in the ‘80s, “There is always an alternative. This is the rule.”

One thing I’m sure of is that Guinness will continue to grow. Not just in size but in character. It has thrived this long by evolving, adapting, and above all, pouring everything into making every pour as good as it can be. And the challengers will only help with this, keeping it honest and true to its north star of characterful communion, while inspiring it to innovate.

What will that look like?

As ever with Guinness, best to wait and see.