When the pipers fell silent, Julie Beels thought her career might be over.
It was February 2008 at Murrayfield, and the stadium was full for the Six Nations match between Scotland and France.
67,500 fans, the Scottish team lined up, the air electric.
Julie, a 21-year-old freelancer at the time, had made what felt like a catastrophic mistake. In rehearsal, she’d told the pipe band to play the national anthem only once, in order to speed up rehearsals. Of course, they’d need to play two verses on match day.
Of course they would.
So when the pipes and drums stopped halfway through Flower of Scotland, the silence hit her like a punch in the stomach.
For a split second, the crowd hesitated.
And then, something extraordinary happened.
They sang. Unaccompanied. A capella**. Loud and proud.**
That “mistake” became one of the most iconic moments in Scottish Rugby’s history, the moment the crowd became the anthem. It’s now tradition. Goosebumps guaranteed.
In Scotland, when things go wrong, we say “keep the heid”:
Don’t panic. Don’t rush to fix. Don’t let fear take the wheel.
Our Associate Creative Director Gerry Farrell has another take on it: FLIP, or “Feel Less Immediately Pessimistic”****.
It’s a simple mental switch. When something seems like it’s gone pear-shaped, resist the instinct to catastrophise. What if, instead, it’s an opportunity? A story in the making? A better way waiting to emerge?
In leadership, teaching, and design we’re constantly at risk of reacting too fast.
A project hits a bump, and we jump to rewrite it.
A lesson doesn’t land, and we ditch it.
A meeting goes off-script, and we call it a failure.
But what if we didn’t?
What if we paused long enough to notice what’s actually happening, what’s forming in the silence after the pipes stop?
That’s where beauty often hides: in the cracks we didn’t plan for.
In your next moment of panic, when a project, plan, or prototype feels like it’s gone wrong, try to FLIP:
Pause. Keep the heid. Notice what new thing might be trying to emerge.
Choose. See the possibility before the pessimism.
Sometimes, what feels like failure is just the first verse ending early. The magic happens in what comes next, when the crowd finds its voice.