For those of us who remember doing homework by candlelight during the miners’ strike of 1974, today’s cost of living crisis feels like a nightmare revisited. One thing I’ve noticed this time around is that, as well as devaluing the pound in your pocket, inflation has devalued certain words. Especially when they are used by marketers.

When I was a young strategist, a boss used to take me to task whenever I used a ‘fat’ word in a proposition. Which was often. 

By ‘fat’ he meant a word which is open to multiple interpretations. Myself being on the portly side, I should have had him for sizeist bullying. But he had a point.

One of the chubby words he most despised was ‘value’. In the world of marketing, it was then, and is now, so packed with multiple interpretations that it verges on the obese. 

Dictionaries tend to agree on a single definition. Specifically, ‘The worth of something’. However, in these inflationary times, marketers virtually always use value as a signifier for another concept entirely: Low prices. As in: ‘We need a value campaign to stress the real value offered by our new value range.’

Amongst my many weaknesses is a passion for fast cars. I would be retired by now had I not spent so much money on them. (To quote George Best, the rest I wasted.) Last night, driving home in my sensible Volvo, I listened to a podcast in which a car reviewer described the new Porsche Taycan as ‘excellent value’ at £130,000.

In polite company, such a phrase has a disgustingly Marie Antoinette-ish ring to it. But petrolheads recognise the truth in it.

Yes, it’s an obscene sum. But factor in the standard carbon brakes and heated rear seats that other makers consider optional extras, and the whole proposition begins to look like a positive steal.

In that story lies a powerful truth. One that former Tesco boss Terry Leahy neatly summed up in a simple five-word sentence: ‘All value is personally defined’. (I suspect the great copywriter Terry Hunt may have had something to do with that phrase, but I’ll leave that one for historians to fight over.)

Value is relative. It is what you get for the price you pay. And that differs from person to person. So, the next time you feel tempted to use the word ‘value’, ask yourself the question: ‘Value for who?’ (or ‘whom’, if you’re feeling pedantic).

As a simple Midlands lad, the concept of ratatouille provençale being a cupboard essential still amuses me. But if your customers shop at Waitrose, value to them may mean the ability to economise without sacrificing their self-image as the next Elizabeth David. 

Which is exactly my point. If the concept of value you’re talking about in the proposition doesn’t address the emotional need described in the audience box above, take ten for a cuppa. Then come back and have another go.

I hasten to add that this advice applies to yours truly, too. This an open invitation to suits and creatives to hoist me by my own petard. (It’s a good job they never read this blog.)

Here’s another trick you might want to try. If you can substitute the word ‘value’ for the phrase ‘low cost’, perhaps you should be using the latter. 

Not only will you be liberating the concept of value to do yeoman work for your brand in a more appropriate context, you will also be doing a favour for the English language.

There’s value in that, too.