Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Awards, Brand Suicide, Cannes, Colenso, Comment, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Crap Campaigns In History, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Distinction, Embarrassing Moments, Innovation, Insight, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Relevance, Resonance, Technology
Being old, I’ve done more than my fair share of judging awards.
I enjoy it.
Yes it’s a major investment in terms of time, but when you come across an absolutely devastatingly good submission, it’s worth every second.
However it is also fair to say that over the years, there have been some real painful experiences. Either in terms of average papers being seemingly entered into every category in a bid to increase the odds of winning something or papers that have such a strong scent of scam, even Ray Charles can see how suspect they are. [Sorry Mr Charles]
I always laugh when I come across those. Specially at the agencies submitting them … because while they obviously think they are geniuses – or the judges are idiots – the reality is they’re wrong on both counts.
But here’s the thing, people can slag off awards all they like, but they matter.
For Colenso for example, they’re important.
We’re a small agency on the other side of the planet and being able to show our creativity and effectiveness is vitally important to keep demonstrating our validity to attract global clients.
But – and it’s a big but – it only works if its real.
And that only works if all the winners around it are also real.
Now I appreciate that different clients have different needs and budgets.
I appreciate different markets have different cultural traits, behaviours and media.
I absolutely appreciate some entries use a language that is not their native tongue.
And I think that is all brilliant – though I also think none-native English speakers are at an immediate disadvantage and the award organisers should be looking at ways to change that.
However, if you need to write 8456738585463 words to explain your problem or your idea or your insight or your results … you’re not helping yourself.
Nor are you if you are using the pandemic as your strategies main adversary – often followed up with the words, ‘how do we grow in an era of the new normal?’.
Of course I am not doubting the pandemic has caused havoc among categories of business all over the world. It’s definitely happened to me too. But if we don’t explain what the challenge is – how it has affected behaviour or values or distribution or competition or anything other than it ‘made things more difficult’ … then it’s as lazy as the time I judged the Effies in the US when Trump came to power and the opening line of 85% of all submissions was:
How do we bring a nation divided together?
[My fave was when a whisky brand used that as their creative challenge. HAHAHAHA]
I take the judging seriously because I want the awards to be valued.
I want the awards to be valued because I want the industry to be valued.
And I want the industry to be valued because I want clients to win, creativity to win and the people coming up behind me to have a chance of taking us all to better and more interesting places that we’re at right now.
And I believe they can if we don’t fuck up the chance for them.
I get awards are nice to have.
I get they can drive business and payrises.
But if we keep allowing bullshit a chance to shine – and let’s face it, we have time and time again – then all we’re doing is fucking ourselves over.
I’m fine with failure.
In fact I’m very, very comfortable with it.
Especially when it’s because someone has tried to do something audacious for all the right reasons … because even if it doesn’t come off, it’s opened the door to other things we may never have imagined. There’s even real commercial value to that.
But when agencies create, hijack or exploit problems to just serve their own means – then fuck them. Maybe – just maybe – if they did it at a scale that could make a real difference, you’d be prone to encourage it. But when it’s done to achieve just what is needed to let the creators win an award … then frankly, the organisers and judges have a moral obligation to call it out.
Asia gets a bad wrap for this. And over the years that has been deserved, but I can tell you no market is immune. Hell, I’ve even seen some in NZ recently – or one in particular – and what made it worse was it wasn’t even any good.
But as rubbish as that example was, at least it didn’t stoop to the levels we have seen previously.
Let’s remember it’s only 4 years ago an agency WON MAJOR AWARDS for an app they said could help save refugees on boats by tracking them in the sea … only for them to then claim – when later called out – that the app was in beta testing hence the information being sent back to users was not real.
Amazingly ignoring the fact they didn’t say that in any of their entry submissions and if they had, they wouldn’t have been eligible for the awards they entered in the first place.
Creativity can do amazing things.
Advertising can do amazing things.
But we fuck it up when we put the superficial on the podium.
Of course, this is not just an agency problem. Clients are also part of this. Because if they let agencies do what they are great at rather than treating them as a subservient production partner … maybe we’d not just see more interesting work, but even more interesting and valuable brands.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Brand Suicide, Comment, Communication Strategy, Crap Campaigns In History, Crap Marketing Ideas From History!, Creativity, Culture, Equality, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Women
Years ago I worked on the shampoo brand Sunsilk.
I know. Me.
A bald bloke.
Hahahahahahahaha.
Back then, it was in a two brand fight for dominance with Pantene.
They went back and forth trying to get one over the over.
Apparently the brands had legally agreed how each one could show the ‘shine’ of the hair they washed in TV ads. A slight deviation that allowed each one to build their own distinctive look.
Back when I was on it, albeit for 2 mins, Sunsilk was a big, mature brand.
A powerhouse.
So you can imagine my surprise when I saw this:
What in gods name is that?
What is it?
It’s like the worst Barbie ad I’ve ever seen.
An ad that claims to ‘rethink’ pink but doesn’t really rethink anything.
Oh they may think they are, but the people behind this need to know you can’t just say pink now represents possibilities, future, strength and shiny [gotta get those haircare ad cues in there, even if it makes even less sense to the premise of the ad] … you actually have to make it mean that.
It’s a commitment.
A focus.
Acts beyond advertising.
So sadly, when you make an ad so bubblegum it looks like the bastard love child of the movie, Legally Blonde and a packet of original Hubba Bubba, you’re not really going to convince anyone.
On the positive, they cop out by saying ‘pink is whatever we make it’ and so I would like to tell the people at Unilever and Sunilk they did exactly that, because they have made pink brown.
Shitty brown.
Am I being mean?
Yep.
But then this is a multi-billion dollar company who has profited by putting women across Asia in cultural jail by promoting white skin as the right skin … used COVID to maximise profits for their antiseptic products and continually used stereotypes to promote it’s products … so I don’t have much sympathy for them.
Especially when they’re now trying to connect to young women by saying ‘pink’ is powerful while using all the same tropes, styles and themes that means what they’re actually communicating is ‘pink is the same old girly cliche they’ve been profiting from, for decades’.
There’s some absolutely incredibly talented people at Unilever.
Including some very good friends of mine.
There’s also some brilliant systems and processes within the organisation.
Sadly, there’s also a blinkered reliance on some questionable research methodologies, which results in a lack of self awareness so they end up with work like this.
They have done some brilliant work in the past.
Some truly brilliant.
But – in my opinion – not so much right now. Made worse with the sort of underlying messages that undermine people rather than elevate them.
If it wasn’t for their huge distribution and pricing power, it would be interesting to see what would happen to the brand.
But the thing is I want them to do well.
I want them to make work that changes and positively impacts culture.
They’re a huge spender on advertising.
They have the ability to change how culture feels and how the industry is perceived.
A Unilever that does great advertising is a Unilever that will have positive knock-on effects in a whole host of other areas and industries.
I’d even be willing to help them – for free, for a time – if their starting point was about building change through truth rather than their messed-up, manipulative version of purpose.
However given they made this ad after saying they wanted to stop the stereotypes in their advertising, it appears their view of reality is more blinkered than a racehorse.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, China, Comment, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity, Emotion, Empathy, Honesty, Management, Marketing, Wieden+Kennedy
Once upon a time, I worked with a guy called Kim Papworth.
He was the co-ECD of Wieden London at the time, with the irrepressible Tony Davidson.
Now I am sure Tony wouldn’t mind me saying this, but he has a reputation as a bit of a madman.
Brilliantly creative.
Deliciously stubborn.
Fiercely challenging.
And slightly bonkers.
OK, so in their early days – when they were at BMP and BBH – this ‘unique’ reputation was allegedly shared … however as time went by, Kim started being seen by many people as ‘the nice one’.
While they are both ace, I get why.
Where Tony is loud, Kim is quiet.
Where Tony is chaos, Kim is clarity.
Where Tony is intense, Kim is calm.
Where Tony is random, Kim is considered.
Let me be clear, Tony was – and is – amazing and has always been so good to me, however many viewed Kim as the more approachable of the two … the one you could reason with … the one you could chat to … the one you could have a debate with and it’s this that was his most powerful move.
You see Kim … wonderful, kind, compassionate Kim … is steely as fuck.
Sure he doesn’t shout or rant or gesticulate or throw tantrums.
Sure he doesn’t swear or throw toys out the pram or act aloof.
But he was stubborn as fuck about letting the work win.
He wouldn’t let ideas be killed on an individuals whim.
He wouldn’t let ideas be changed to satisfy personal ego.
He wouldn’t let ideas be diluted to appease a committee.
He wouldn’t let ideas be burdened by politics or agenda.
He wouldn’t let ideas be sold short by timelines or small mindedness.
He wouldn’t let anything win other than the purity of the idea.
I once watched him keep a campaign on the table after a client had spent 30 minutes saying it was wrong and they hated it. Better yet, he did it in a way where the client was OK with him doing it.
He didn’t bully, lie or manipulate to get his way.
He did it by listening.
Intently.
Then he slowly but methodically went through each of their issues and talked about the options he saw to solve them … always ensuring they elevated the idea he believed in rather than diluting it.
It was – quite simply – one of the most amazing pieces of creative negotiation I’ve ever seen.
Actually, negotiation is the wrong word.
Because it was never about dumbing down the idea to keep a version of it, it was always about solving the problems the clients had but in ways that ensured the idea would be able to shine.
[The photo at the end of this post is from that meeting, where Kim awkwardly humoured me and my demands to commemorate the moment of magic]
While Kim was – and is – a brilliant, brilliant creative, one of his greatest skills was the art of listening, because he always saw it as ammunition that allowed him to keep ideas safe.
While there are others that practice this – including a bunch at Colenso for example – a huge amount of the industry simply hears stuff.
Listening and hearing are very different.
Listening is understanding.
Not just the words, but the context and the details.
But hearing …
Well, hearing is simply about sound and that’s why we often end up with divisions.
A battle between ‘what I want’ and ‘what you want’.
A war between creativity and client.
No one wins.
Sure, someone may in the short-term, but not long.
That doesn’t mean you can’t disagree or debate … nor does it mean you will always succeed in convincing someone to change their mind … but listening increases the odds.
It ensures the other party feels they have been understood.
It ensures your response is efficient and focused on the issue.
It ensures you are keeping the work on the table for as long as possible.
[And if he feels the demands being asked of the work undermine the power of the work, he’d just take it off the table and we would start again. And I believe in that to this day]
I have had the great pleasure of working with a whole host of brilliantly talented creative people.
People in adland, music, fashion, gaming and sport.
But the ones I find the most fascinating are the ones like Kim.
Who have the ability to feel like velvet, even when their focus is forged in iron.
Not because of manipulation, deceit or trickery.
But because they know, nothing is as forceful as the power of listening.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Confidence, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Differentiation, Emotion, Planners, Planning, Point Of View
For years I have used song lyrics for creative brief inspiration.
Specifically, the Point Of View.
It’s been hugely useful to me because lyrics don’t just convey a story, they ignite emotion … which is especially useful when you want to capture the creatives imagination.
Mind you, I once used whole sections of lyrics from Bon Jovi’s Blood On Blood as my entire strategy presentation for Jeep and that didn’t go down so well.
Heathens … hahaha.
What’s interesting – at least to me – is when I was younger, I never really cared about lyrics. For me, it was always the guitar and the melody. Hell, I didn’t even know the lyrics to music I wrote myself … which, on hindsight, is probably a good thing, to be honest.
But since I hung up the guitar – or at least hung up playing it 8 hours every day – I have been captivated by lyrics. The stories and opinions they hold … and recently, while working on a project, I got reacquainted with the song Town Called Malice, by The Jam, which is above.
I remember when this song came out and I didn’t like it much.
Well, I loved the title – which I still do – but the rest was, blah.
I was into metal back then so I saw it as soft, sell-out, fancy suit shit.
Hahahahahahaha.
But 40 years later – fuck – I have learnt to love this song, especially for the lyrics.
Specifically, “stop apologising for the things you haven’t done”.
That’s a powerful line.
One that is even more pertinent today than it probably was in 1981.
I have to say, I am over people feeling they have to apologise for stuff they haven’t done.
OK, if they promised to take the rubbish out, I get it. But the rest can fuck off.
Life seems to be a continuous cycle of things we are supposed to have done … a slow force into complicity and parity.
Planning is particularly bad for this …
The books we should have read.
The people we should be following.
The methodologies we should all use.
Yes, there is a lot of good stuff you can get from the names constantly being suggested, but they are not a mandate. They certainly shouldn’t be the people or processes we have to apologise for having not followed.
Our job is to be interested in what others are interested in, not just what other planners are interested in. The naval gazing of the industry is insane.
On one level I do understand it.
Many planners feel they are imposters and so knowing what people they think are ‘real planners’ like, lets them feel a bit more validated to do what they are paid to do.
But here’s the thing, the people who think are ‘real strategists’ also feel like imposters.
Truly.
So what this means is the people who question their credentials are following the words and actions of people who also question their credentials. Which means the whole ‘things you should follow’ ends up being even more ridiculous.
While we should all be investing in our knowledge and awareness – and giving respect to those who keep doing work that tries to push things forward – that does not mean we should all be blindly doing the same thing as everyone else. If anything it means we need to be doing a whole bunch of different things from everyone else.
For example …
Read different books/magazine in different categories from different countries.
Follow people doing interesting things from different categories and cultures.
Be curious about people who make interesting things, not just talk about interesting things.
Learn from people who approach creativity in different ways to your own industry.
[Though I appreciate the irony of me telling people to follow what I do, haha]
All this is another reason why the industry needs to be hiring different sorts of people from different sorts of places and backgrounds … even though I’ve heard on the rare occasions that they do, they then tell them they need to be like the establishment to ‘be taken seriously’.
FFS!!!
While we all need to develop our craft, experience and knowledge … rather than apologising for having not done/read/followed the exact same person/process/book as every other planner – however good they may be – how about celebrating whatever it is you are doing, exploring and learning … because trying to find your own voice is a far more noble act than simply trying to replicate someone else’s.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, China, Chinese Culture, Comment, Context, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Health, Management, Pollution, Relevance, Resonance
Once upon a time, a creative friend of mine rang me up.
He had been offered a job in China and wanted to hear my perspective on being there.
During the conversation, he asked if the pollution was bad.
When I asked why he was asking, he said he was pretty susceptible to asthma and while on his visit to the agency there, he had felt a bit ill, despite the weather being good.
He had asked some of his prospective workmates if they felt the weather was ever bad for breathing and they all said no and he wanted to know my take on it.
I laughed.
Not just because it’s pretty well documented the air there is not great, especially for an asthmatic – despite the government being the biggest investor in green technology in the World – but because it reminded me of something my Dad had told me while watching the Tom Cruise movie, A Few Good Men.
I know this is going off on a tangent, but hang in there.
You see, at the scene where Jack Nicholson spouts his immortal “You Can’t Handle The Truth” line, my Dad burst out laughing.
When I asked why, he said this:
“There are occasions where people will openly deny truth. Not because they hold a different opinion, but because to accept it means they would have to accept their complicity in a situation truth has revealed. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement means people are forced to face and question the motives and values they conveniently chose to hide away”
His point was literally what my friend had experienced.
The prospective colleagues he asked about weather conditions knew full-well there is pollution in the air. However, their mind had almost forced them to forget it. Not because they were liars or bad people, but because if they admitted the truth, then they would be forced to ask themselves why they were there when they knew it was likely to be doing them harm.
We experience this every day.
Deliberate ignorance.
From people hired to purchases made.
Not because people are bad, but because we don’t want face the questionable decisions we’ve chosen to make to benefit our personal circumstances over health, values or friendship.
Which is why my mate decided not to go to China.
The moral of the story.
Remember people sometimes don’t tell you what they think, they tell you what protects them from you knowing what they think.