My Goodness, My Guinness Insults My Intelligence By Matthew Hennessey
A “sobering” look at Irish and Irish Americans!
My Goodness, My Guinness Insults My Intelligence
In a new commercial for the European market, the beer maker takes a crowd-pleasing swipe at Irish-Americans.
By Matthew Hennessey
The Wall Street Journal
March 15, 2024 2:04 pm ET
I’m a Guinness man. The black stout from St. James’s Gate in Dublin is far and away my favorite beer. The mere sight of those foamy white bubbles building to a creamy head in a tulip-shaped pint glass fires my rebel Irish blood. When it touches my lips, I swear I hear pipes playing. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to learn that the company that makes the stuff thinks I’m a moron.
There’s probably a better than 50/50 chance you know how to pronounce the Irish name Saoirse. An actress, Saoirse Ronan, has been an internationally famous star for more than a decade. She has been nominated three times since 2015 for the Best Actress Academy Award and won a Golden Globe in 2017 for her role in the Greta Gerwig film “Lady Bird.” Ms. Ronan regularly appears on late-night television in this country, where she has engaged in good-natured banter about the pronunciation of her name, which means “freedom” in Irish.
Suffice to say that Ms. Ronan and her given name are well-known to much of the world at this point. So why would Guinness assume Americans incapable of pronouncing Saoirse correctly? The answer is as simple as it is distressing: Because painting Americans as dummies plays well in Ireland.
Ahead of St. Patrick’s Day the company released an ad in Europe for Guinness 0, its new nonalcoholic offering. The spot features “Derry Girls” actress Saoirse-Monica Jackson. It opens with her taking a seat at the bar of a typical Irish pub, where she is spotted by an American tourist couple dressed in emerald green leisure wear. The pair grow giddy at the sight of an actress they recognize.
Now, pause for a moment. Unlike Ms. Ronan, Ms. Jackson isn’t well-known in the U.S., but the commercial-makers would like you to suspend that disbelief and accept that these embarrassing Americans are star-struck. But they can’t say her name correctly. They mangle it multiple times, calling her, by turns, “Sharusha,” “Seesha,” and “Shawarma.” Ms. Jackson grows increasingly frustrated by their stupidity.
There’s more to the commercial, but none of it concerns me. The idea that American tourists in 2024 would not only be able to approximate a correct pronunciation of Saoirse but would humiliate themselves in repeated failed attempts is silly. Yet it comports with the general Irish stereotype of American tourists as crass, oblivious and somewhat dumb.
It may surprise non-Irish people to learn that there is little affinity, cultural or otherwise, between Irish-Americans and the native-born Irish. The notion that millions of Americans consider themselves Irish by virtue of their family connections is a head-scratcher to residents of the Emerald Isle. They don’t get it at all.
But they do like the idea of selling us beer. Fifteen years ago the global liquor giant Diageo, which owns the Guinness brand, decided to conquer the U.S. market—and succeeded. A 2023 YouGov survey named Guinness the most popular beer in America. The company’s commercials in the American market feature football legend Joe Montana and Hollywood star Jason Momoa. Back in the old country, however, the American consumer is the butt of the joke.
There was a time when Americans viewed Irish immigrants as provincial hayseeds with sheep dung on their shoes. Now it’s the Irish who look down their noses at their Yankee cousins. Nothing makes Irish audiences laugh harder than a wide-load bigmouth in a baseball hat and windbreaker on a pilgrimage to his ancestral homeland. The American buffoon is a staple of Irish comedy.
Were I a more principled man, I would take the occasion of this insult to declare myself finished with Guinness. I would put down my pint out of pure patriotism and never again pay a penny for that bewitching elixir. But who am I kidding? I’m a Guinness man.
Mr. Hennessey is the Journal’s deputy editorial features editor.
