Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Context, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Education, Effectiveness, Emotion, History, Planners, Planners Making A Complete Tit Of Themselves And Bless, Planning, R/GA, Wieden+Kennedy
In his iconic Ted Talk speech, ‘Do Schools Kill Creativity’, the great Sir Ken Robinson wondered what Shakespear was like …
When he was a child …
At school …
In English class.
I still remember how it felt when I heard him say that, because frankly … I never had thought of Shakespear as a kid.
Hell, in many ways, I didn’t even think of him as a real person, as my only exposure to him had been through books and films … which all reinforces what the great Bob Greenberg, co-founder of R/GA, used to say, which was:
“People know you how they’re introduced to you”.
It seems obvious, but we continually forget it.
It’s why there’s a whole generation who know Jordan as a shoe brand more than an iconic basketballer … know Wieden+Kennedy as a brilliant ad agency rather than the outcome of two brilliant – but spotlight-reluctant – humans coming together to make anything but ‘ads’ … and know the Mona Lisa as a painting, rather than a portrait.
This last one is especially pertinent because I recently saw this …
… and yes, like Sir Ken’s comment on Shakespear, I was faced with the realization that the Mona Lisa was a person before a painting.
Too often we base our viewpoints on the mistaken belief that history only starts when we discover it … which may explain why there’s so much stuff spouted on Linkedin that suggests a person has just created something radical, when in reality it’s just a new take on an old lesson.
Which is why it may be useful if we all followed the advice my Dad always encouraged when exposed to something new.
In essence he asked himself – or others – 3 questions.
What do you know about them?
What do others know about them – that you don’t?
What can you know about them that will tell you who they are or how they got here?
It ensured he was always able to talk from the context of history and present … ensuring his viewpoint was grounded in truth but wrapped in modern contexts and perspectives. Which means, for someone who wasn’t a strategist, he was a fucking brilliant strategist.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Family, Home, Love, Loyalty, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Nottingham
I watched something recently that made me happy, jealous and sad all at the same time.
I know … I know … they’re the sort of emotional extremes you’d normally associate with a psychopath – but hang in there.
I’ve written a lot about how much I loved my parents. How much I still do.
So many of the decisions and choices I’ve made in my life have been influenced by me wanting them to feel proud of me – even though they’re no longer here and I know very clearly that they were already.
But despite that, I still do stuff that is driven by a desire to thank them for being brilliant parents … to let them know that despite all the moments of ‘stupidity’ that I have embraced throughout my life, the lessons, encouragement and love they continually showed me, were never taken for granted.
Even more so because they never wanted anything from me.
Nor did they ever ask anything of me.
All they desired was that I choose a life of fulfillment over contentment.
It took me a long time to work out what that meant, but once I had worked it out – it fundamentally changed how I lived my life. Giving me clarity at times of confusion or complexity. Hell, it’s one of the main reasons I didn’t go back to the UK when I faced some truly challenging situations while living overseas … because even though I knew they’d love it if I’d gone back [and I’d have loved it too] – I felt I would be disrespecting the gift they’d given me by encouraging me go and explore the world when they were facing such personal hardship through Dad’s illness.
We talked a lot about this when Dad became ill.
I was due to go to Australia when Dad had his stroke. Suddenly I didn’t want to go … I wanted to stay with them and help, which was my new plan right until the moment I told my parents about it.
“NO!” they said.
This was not something they were willing to allow.
Of course they massively appreciated the consideration, but they wanted me to go and live my life rather than – as they saw it – be held back by their situation. Given how hard their situation was, it is fair to say that no one – least of all me – would have blamed them if they had asked me to stay, but they didn’t and I think part of that is because they knew that had I not gone then, I would never have left … and that was an outcome they were never going to allow.
That does not mean life wouldn’t have been good if I had stayed – I loved my parents and I loved Nottingham – but it is also fair to say the life I get to live and enjoy now is nothing like the one I would have experienced if I’d remained. As I’ve written many times before, everything I have in my life today, bar my relationship with my best friend Paul, is because I left the UK.
My family.
My career.
My lifestyle.
My experience.
My experiences.
Every single bit of it … which is why their actions are not only an incredible example of ‘unconditional love’, but also proof of how well my parents knew who I was and – with a bit of encouragement – who I could be.
What a gift.
What generosity.
Which may explain why I felt such a compulsion to repay their love. I don’t mean that just in terms of chasing a life of fulfillment, but in trying to help them make their life easier, happier and – dare I say it – more comfortable.
You see, whatever way you look at it, life wasn’t easy for them. In fact it never was.
Money was always very tight and now, with Dad’s health – and Mum caring for him 24/7 – it had now become even harder.
And while I did what I could, I was not earning the money that would allow me to do what I really wanted for them which was:
Pay off the house and buy Dad a yellow 1970’s, Rolls Royce with white-walled wheels.
In that order.
But hope and reality are separate beasts and even if I could have pulled it off, I know they would have lost their shit over it, because to them, they’d tell me I should be focusing on my future, not theirs.
Which leads me back to the beginning of this post and how I saw a clip that made me feel happy, jealous and sad all at the same time … because I got to watch a kid do this for his parents. Not the Rolls Royce bit, but the house.
I love it.
I love the reaction of the Father.
The slow realisation followed by the cavalcade of emotions …. pride, relief, gratitude and love.
I can only imagine how good the son felt to be able to do that for his folks.
And while my parents did – in the end – get to pay off the family home, it was not because of me but because of an insurance payout they received for a car accident they’d been involved in 5 years prior. And while I wish they hadn’t had to experience the accident to be able to pay off the home, I also know how happy it made my parents – especially my Dad, who knew he was nearing the end of life and so it reassured him Mum would be safe – but even then, I still wish I’d been able to do this for them.
Of course – as my career took off – I was able to repay/spoil/look after my Mum – but while I may still look at that clip with a mixture of emotions, I comfort myself knowing it has nothing really to do with buying your parents a home and everything to do with celebrating a loving, caring family and viewed through that lens … I know my parents knew how grateful I was for all they did and all they were.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, China, Chinese Culture, Creativity, Culture, Devious Strategy, Effectiveness, Imagination, Innovation, Perspective, Planning
I’ve written about something I call ‘devious strategy’ for a long time.
In essence, it’s the art of giving people what they want but in a way where they give you exactly what you need from them.
While I’ve covered a bunch of examples in the past – from how Daniel Radcliffe stopped the paparazzi photographing him each night after his theatre performance through to how singer Grace Slick, got Chick-fil-A to pay the LGBTQ+ community to lobby against themselves – the reality is the ultimate Champions of this strategic approach are without doubt, the Chinese Government.
Their ingenuity knows no bounds.
Sure, some of the reasons for this is not great … but let’s be honest, how they ensure people ask for receipts in restaurants so they can ensure they can get the correct amount of tax due to them, is sheer genius.
But I recently learned of a variant of this approach that is less about ‘achieving a favorable solution’ and more about ‘making the problem more difficult for people to ignore’ … and funnily enough, it also comes from the evil genius brains of government.
This time, from local government in Glasgow, Scotland.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls … allow me to introduce you to Leverage Pettiness Strategy™, and before anyone tells me that’s bullshit, just remember our industry once gave an ‘effectiveness’ award to a supermarket chain for sales growth DURING COVID.
By that reckoning, changing the name of a road should win a Nobel Peace Prize.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Art, Brand, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Design, Great Ads In History, Outdoor
I love outdoor.
Well, good outdoor.
From the madness of selling glue to igniting football pride … there’s been some incredible use of the medium.
Or should I say, incredible demonstration of design.
But for years – we’ve had the opposite of that.
Poster sites being treated like retail brochures.
Where a brand crams in as many words, visuals and sales cue as is physically possible with the space available.
Designed to satisfy the sales department and board of directors rather than their audience or even the environmental context.
But recently we have started seeing a return to what great outdoor is.
How wonderful are they?
They say so much without having to say so much.
Sure, both of these examples are for brands that have a clearly established position and role in their particular categories – but let’s be honest, there’s loads of brands who have achieved that and still make utter shit outdoor. Well, utter shit everything.
But these …
Well, for me, they’re perfect examples of brilliant advertising.
Brilliant, outdoor advertising.
Singular. Simple. Striking.
It’s beautiful.
But more than that, it’s effective.
Demanding your attention rather than pushing it away.
Fuck, it makes the streets feel like a gallery rather than a supermarket.
I hope it continues. I hope it symbolizes a move away from the blinkered and extreme adoption of certain ‘for profit’ marketing practices, that are far more about holding your place within a category than rising your brand beyond it.
So here’s to those who choose to fill the streets with imagery that makes people feel something, understand something and get something.
Because if you’re using billboards to detail all the rational reasons why people should want what you do, you need to accept you’re basically admitting you don’t have anything people really will care about hearing.
I’m turning 55 this year.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?
How the hell did that happen?
The good news is that while I may look it, I don’t act it.
I’m not saying that, I was told it.
By managers of Rock Stars who said, ‘I was immune from maturity’.
And while they probably meant it as an insult, I took it as a compliment. I’m sad like that.
But the reality is, regardless how stupid or annoying I can be – or as young as I sometimes really think I am – I’m still closer to getting a bus pass than I am getting inside a tour bus which may explain why I often look at people and can’t believe how young they are.
Pilots.
Doctors.
Footballers.
Police Officers.
Hell, not that long ago I got on a plane that I swear was being flown by a child.
Seriously, they looked like they weren’t even old enough to fold a paper plane, let alone fly a massive real one.
Which is why recently – while reading about Nottingham Forest in the Evening Post – I saw an ad that has made me question whether it is more evidence I’m an old bastard or actually just another example of marketing bullshit.
It was this.
No, I don’t mean the funeral insurance – which was depressing enough – but the ad next to it.
The one that features an attractive woman who apparently is a ‘single senior’.
Now maybe my eye’s deceive me. Or maybe the woman in this ad is the recipient of South Korea’s finest plastic surgery. But how the fuck is she classified as a senior???
OK, it’s marketing and their track record of shaming women knows no bounds … but come on, when the hell did ‘senior’ become anyone over 30?
Sure, for a 15 year old, 30 is ancient-as-fuck.
And yes, the health industry labels anyone becoming a parent over 35 as ‘geriatric’.
Then there’s Chanel, who classify anything over 40 years of age as ‘vintage’.
But all those examples come from people and industries known for being fucking lunatics.
Whereas I – on the other hand – am not one.
Not really.
Which is why I can categorically state the woman in that photo is absolutely-not a ‘senior’.
Or I hope she isn’t.
Because if that was the case, not only would it mean I’m pre-historic, it would make me think the real reason Otis lives at home is not because he’s a 10 year old little boy, but because he’s actually an adult taking care of his decrepit old man in the last days of life.
Jesus, as Monday’s go, this one has gone especially dark.
So thank you Nottingham Evening Post. Asshole.