Made in Scotland from patriotism

The latest Irn-Bru ad capitalises on the rising swell of Scottish national pride to sell fluorescent fizzy pop

A bottle of Irn-Bru
Fizzing with pride ... Irn-Bru is cashing in on Scottish nationalism. Photograph: Roger Tooth

We have already thieving pensioners in motorised wheelchairs, young boys with superhuman strength and greedy flying snowmen, but the latest Barr's Irn-Bru advert has loftier aspirations than any of its predecessors. If (any ad with artistic pretensions has a title these days) uses Rudyard Kipling's famous poem as a framework to present positive images of modern Scottishness, cunningly positioning Irn-Bru itself at the heart of a cultural identity. On the most basic level, it works. This is a powerful and rousing TV ad, which cashes in brilliantly on the rising swell of nationalism north of Hadrian's Wall.

Here are some of the "if"s that warrant the reward of a fluorescent soft drunk in Irn Bru world: "If you can hit a foreign beach without a tan or brave the howling sleet in just a shirt"; "if you can picnic in the pelting rain with kamikaze midgies in the mud"; "if you can grit your teeth and put up with the pain of seeing in the New Year in the scud". Actor Martin Compston's jubilant voiceover is accompanied by images including teenage T in the Park attendees scrambling for cover in a downpour, mournful faces on the football terraces and an elderly naked couple gingerly dipping their toes into the North Sea. The tone is irreverent, self-deprecating and deeply sentimental - just as some Scots see themselves.

The ad has proved seductive to many natives, some of whom (including a number of expats around the world) have left messages on the Irn-Bru website saying that it "makes my chest swell with pride" and "makes me proud to be a Scot". Some people hate it. The most common complaint is that the film is parochial and patronising. Yes, it represents ways of life which are not entirely metropolitan or London-centric, but why should it apologise for that? A few more non-white faces might have been advisable, but compared to some media pictures of Scotland - including those offered up by the dark, grisly Taggart or the wistful fairytale films of Bill Forsyth - the ad, which embraces groups as varied as Dionysian hen parties, fearless OAPs and football-loving families, is pleasingly diverse and contemporary. And it has clearly hit a nerve with a huge number of Scots.

If there's such a thing as an essence of Scottishness, then according to this ad it is the tendency of Scots, young and old, to battle adversaries such as bad weather, rotten luck or sensible advice in pursuit of adventure. The characteristic has its drawback - possibly if the Scots had more respect for the police, the elements or even dieticians the country would be a calmer, safer, healthier place. But ithis rebellious edge has given Scotland its creative dynamic and a disproportionate influence on art, industry, academia and politics.

The ad also champions the Scottish ability to see romance in defeat. Scots often regard losing as a profoundly bonding experience. That, alongside their habit of waiting for a penny change so that they can proudly drop it into the charity collection box, is nicely evoked in this film. It says, we might have pale, goose-pimpled bodies and a crap football team, but we've got the big stuff worked out. As T Anderson Cairns once famously asked, "Wha's like us?"

Ultimately this is a clever and very timely campaign from Irn Bru. There is a current feelgood mood in Scotland, reflected in a number of recent polls that have recorded rocketing approval ratings for Alex Salmond and the SNP government. A recent Big Issue in Scotland cover declared the country Scotland the Braver. There are few companies more loved and trusted in Scotland than Barr's. Its latest addition to the popular culture of Scotland is a very canny move.