Insurance, insurtech, and the architecture 203
did not describe its function but did index one of the defining practices of
the first fire insurers. This was the practice of identifying insured buildings
by the presence of a firemark, a hand-sized mould of an office’s seal, that
was placed high on the front of the building. These firemarks were the first
visual markers of insurance to appear on the streets. They identified both
protected buildings and the companies they were protected by, but it was
the latter function that really endured.
The Insurance Office used a phoenix on its firemark and the Amicable
used the hand-in-hand symbol of mutuality. In both cases these symbols
extended beyond the firemarks to become the formal identity of companies.
The Insurance Office was renamed the Phoenix and the Amicable became
the Hand in Hand. From the eighteenth century onwards, these symbols
featured on promotional documents, on policies, letterhead, and other
printed material. As Clow explains ‘firemarks were objects that proceeded
to create a graphic identity for the fire offices’ (2020, p. 84) that lasted long
after firemarks themselves fell out of use in the nineteenth century.
Graphic identities and accompanying names were well established in
insurance in England by the late eighteenth century, and in Scotland a few
decades later (Perman 2019). They provided a convenient means of both signifying intangible products and differentiating companies. This work was
hugely significant for the fire, and later life, insurance companies 1 that proliferated in the nineteenth century (see McFall 2014; McFall & Dodsworth
2009). Rocked by, often well-founded doubts, about their propriety and their
safety, many insurance companies adopted naming conventions designed
to allay these concerns. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, brands
were built to convey solidity and respectability. They used flashes of ancient
mythology – the Pelican, the Pearl and the Rock joined the Phoenix – and a
succession of virtues – the Prudential, the Equitable, and many variations
on the Provident and the Temperance, joined the Amicable. These names,
alongside their graphic symbols, played a central role in the early development, circulation, and distribution of commercial print culture. Print, as
Clow (2020) explains, was how trust in commercial enterprises was materially designed and the insurance industry devoted mountains of paper to it.
It continued to matter until late in the twentieth century when the internet
began to supplant it but as one, albeit central, element anchoring a broader
promotional assemblage.
The proliferation of joint-stock companies in the nineteenth century further amplified the need for mechanisms that could promote trust by cultivating an appearance of reliability. Companies began to recruit, or claim
to have recruited, distinguished Boards of Directors to this end. Boards
were used to underwrite reputations but also to raise capital. The Duke of
Buccleuch, a patron of the Scottish Widows, was repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) appealed to for investment (Perman 2019). Board directors of other
Scottish insurers, including Walter Scott and the artist Sir Henry Raeburn
were there partly for their glamour 2 and in Raeburn’s case, also for his help
did not describe its function but did index one of the defining practices of
the first fire insurers. This was the practice of identifying insured buildings
by the presence of a firemark, a hand-sized mould of an office’s seal, that
was placed high on the front of the building. These firemarks were the first
visual markers of insurance to appear on the streets. They identified both
protected buildings and the companies they were protected by, but it was
the latter function that really endured.
The Insurance Office used a phoenix on its firemark and the Amicable
used the hand-in-hand symbol of mutuality. In both cases these symbols
extended beyond the firemarks to become the formal identity of companies.
The Insurance Office was renamed the Phoenix and the Amicable became
the Hand in Hand. From the eighteenth century onwards, these symbols
featured on promotional documents, on policies, letterhead, and other
printed material. As Clow explains ‘firemarks were objects that proceeded
to create a graphic identity for the fire offices’ (2020, p. 84) that lasted long
after firemarks themselves fell out of use in the nineteenth century.
Graphic identities and accompanying names were well established in
insurance in England by the late eighteenth century, and in Scotland a few
decades later (Perman 2019). They provided a convenient means of both signifying intangible products and differentiating companies. This work was
hugely significant for the fire, and later life, insurance companies 1 that proliferated in the nineteenth century (see McFall 2014; McFall & Dodsworth
2009). Rocked by, often well-founded doubts, about their propriety and their
safety, many insurance companies adopted naming conventions designed
to allay these concerns. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, brands
were built to convey solidity and respectability. They used flashes of ancient
mythology – the Pelican, the Pearl and the Rock joined the Phoenix – and a
succession of virtues – the Prudential, the Equitable, and many variations
on the Provident and the Temperance, joined the Amicable. These names,
alongside their graphic symbols, played a central role in the early development, circulation, and distribution of commercial print culture. Print, as
Clow (2020) explains, was how trust in commercial enterprises was materially designed and the insurance industry devoted mountains of paper to it.
It continued to matter until late in the twentieth century when the internet
began to supplant it but as one, albeit central, element anchoring a broader
promotional assemblage.
The proliferation of joint-stock companies in the nineteenth century further amplified the need for mechanisms that could promote trust by cultivating an appearance of reliability. Companies began to recruit, or claim
to have recruited, distinguished Boards of Directors to this end. Boards
were used to underwrite reputations but also to raise capital. The Duke of
Buccleuch, a patron of the Scottish Widows, was repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) appealed to for investment (Perman 2019). Board directors of other
Scottish insurers, including Walter Scott and the artist Sir Henry Raeburn
were there partly for their glamour 2 and in Raeburn’s case, also for his help