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, Advertising, Age, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Management, Marketing Fail, Relationships, Respect
Growing old is an interesting experience.
A mixture of highs and lows … good and bad … challenging and delightful.
It will happen to us all, but one thing that I have found interesting is how quickly the industry you have worked in – regardless of duration – is happy to leave you behind without barely a second thought.
On one hand, I get it.
+ Time never stops.
+ New people are always coming.
+ Fresh thinking and ideas are being born.
+ And your work only really mattered in that moment. To the people you did it with and for.
But it’s still tough when you realise all you did – all the hours, the effort, the toil, sweat, the successes, the failures – mean nothing to those still in the heart of the industry you work/worked in.
I have experienced this – or at least, I’ve felt it – and it can sting [mainly to your ego, hahaha] but what forced me to write this was a conversation I had recently with a friend of mine.
He doesn’t want me to name him, so let’s just call him Rich.
Rich – along with 2 close colleagues – started a company in the 80’s.
With their name on the door, they experienced huge success almost immediately.
Within a matter of years, they were one of the dominant players in their industry.
Better yet, they were seen as one of the most progressive, creative and innovative companies in their category which led to them attracting all manner of people, clients and press coverage … resulting in them opening more offices around the World.
For 20+ years, they were incredibly successful until one day, he and his partners decided it was time to cash-in.
Not because they weren’t passionate about their business anymore, but because they felt they were not able to run it with the energy they once had and that they felt the business and its employees deserved.
Fortunately for them, they were not only a highly desirable company for purchase, but they had an excellent ‘success management’ structure in place … meaning they were able to leave the place they founded feeling positive and wealthy.
All good then?
Yes … kinda.
You see, within a few years Rich felt the itch and wanted to start another company.
This wouldn’t be in the same field he’d worked in previously, it would be helping people who want to start their own thing.
And guess what, it flopped.
Not because his viewpoint had no value or his prices were too high … but because too few people cared about what he had done.
I should point out his company – with his name on the door – still exists and is still successful, but because he had chosen to step out of the spotlight for a few years, the industry he had worked so passionately and diligently in, stopped thinking his opinion mattered. Or in some cases, didn’t even know who he was or what he’d done. And instead, were hanging on the every word of whoever the new, young, thing in his category was saying and doing.
I should say that when he was telling me this, he was laughing …
Apparently the ‘icing on the cake’ for him was when he met someone at a conference – who worked at the company he founded – and he realized that not only did they not know who he was, it was obvious they didn’t care who had started the company in the first place.
Contrary to what some may think, this is not a rant against younger people in the industry.
Nor is it saying we should revere those who once achieved so much.
The point of this post is to remind people like me – read: my age – that we did exactly the same thing that many of us are experiencing today.
A desire to invent, not repeat.
A focus on what’s happening now, not what happened in the past.
A belief we’re inventing, rather than understand we’re generally just re-creating.
We all did that. Hell, some of us are still doing that.
So while people with experience/history may still have plenty to offer, we have to remember we were also all complicit in what we’re currently going through.
That doesn’t mean it can’t hurt.
Nor does it mean it shouldn’t frustrate.
But it does mean you can’t bitch and complain that others are basically doing the exact same thing you once did to the people before you.
So smile. Encourage. And know one day they will likely also discover the annoying reality that while they can [hopefully] feel proud of what they’ve done, they’re not as original or important as they thought/wished or once were.
Which is possibly the best reminder to focus more on what makes you happy, because at the end of the day, that’s what counts and is remembered the most, if only by ourselves.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, China, Colleagues, Content, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Distinction, Diversity, Emotion, Empathy, HHCL, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Mum & Dad, Perspective, Planners, Planners Making A Complete Tit Of Themselves And Bless, Planning, Point Of View, Police, Professionalism, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Strategy, Stubborness, Truth, Wieden+Kennedy
When I started in this business, 10,000 years ago, I was a pain-in-the-ass.
OK, I admit … I still am, but for different reasons these days.
Because back then, my annoying trait was driven my eagerness to learn.
Not just from the people around me, but anyone who I thought had – or was – doing something interesting.
It meant I had no boundary as to who I spoke to.
Not just in the agency, but out of it too.
It resulted in me talking to all manner of different people – regardless of their role or level – the only requirement being they had to doing something I thought was interesting.
Not because I was trying to gain favor.
Not because I wanted to earn ‘social clout’.
But because I was, as my Mum had taught me, interested in what other people were interested in … and I thought who better to look at than the people who had, or were doing, something that interested and intrigued me.
What this meant was I not only built up my context and breadth of knowledge pretty rapidly, it also meant I built connections that I may otherwise not ever get to. Not that, my goal was that, it was just a byproduct of it.
And while I definitely got this trait from my parents, at the time I just thought it was normal … something everyone did. Until I realised it wasn’t.
One day I got called into one of my bosses office and asked what the fuck I was doing.
A client had mentioned to him I’d been in touch [in a nice way] and my boss couldn’t work out for the life of him, how – or why – that had happened.
As he started telling me that I need to spend my time focused on my job rather than interrupting people from doing there’s … I told him that I was doing my job. That I’d not let anything fall through the cracks and it was at that point he inadvertently gave me one of the best lessons I’ve ever had in my career.
You see, when he realised I was meeting/chatting to all these people but still fulfilling my responsibilities, he knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on. Worse, he knew I knew.
And that kind-of liberated me to go after anyone or anything I found interesting.
It’s how I met Paul Britton, the Forensic Profiler who brought the discipline to the UK.
It’s how I met Clotaire Rapaille, the author of The Culture Code – which has had a huge influence on my work.
It’s how I met Lee Hill … who I am incredibly grateful is still in my life as my mentor and friend.
And despite all that being decades ago, I have continued to do it throughout my career – resulting in me getting to learn and understand perspectives from International Football Managers to Sex Workers.
Or said another way …
By following what interests me rather than what is expected of me, I’ve ended up with a wonderful range of wonderful people who continue to inform, educate and advice me on what I do and how I do it.
The reason I say this is that I am pretty surprised how many people only want to engage with people of a similar level to them. Not all, admittedly … but far too many.
I don’t know if it is nerves, respect, the fear of looking like a social climber or even the bloody class system but what I can honestly say is that my ‘informants’ [as I called them in Heather Lefevre’s great book, ‘Brain Surfing’] still provides me with more insight and creativity than all the frameworks, systems, social listening tools and focus groups – put together.
Which is why when people ask me what they can do to develop their skills, I tell them to not follow the words of the Linkedin pundits and gurus, but wherever their curiosity takes them or intrigues them. Because if you only play where you’re comfortable, you’ll never see everything you want is on the other side of it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Asia, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Contribution, Corporate Evil, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Environment, Finance, Government, Imagination, Perspective, Resonance, Respect, Values, Vietnam
Over the last year, I have fallen in love with walking.
What once I considered a waste of TV/Gaming/Eating time, now I prioritise it.
I take client calls on walks.
I do team catch-ups on walks.
I do a lot of my work thinking time on walks.
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk.
And the benefits of this approach to life are plentiful.
I’m healthier – physically and mentally.
I have a skin tone that no longer makes me look like an anemic Dracula.
And I have got to connect more to the places I live and work.
I am not suggesting in any way others need to be doing this, just highlighting how it has had a lifechanging effect on me.
But one of the things I have really got to appreciate with walking is seeing the communities and streets around where I live and how – every now and then – you come across something that makes me stop walking and stare.
This is one of them …
Someone did that.
Someone decided to do that.
To make a little part of the pavement, a jewel.
And I have no idea why … and I have no idea who … but I love someone did.
Not just because they took the time, but they thought is was worth the time.
And that’s the thing I worry about where we’re heading.
Because everything is seemingly evaluated and valued by greatest and fastest ROI.
We’re seeing companies do it with their endless mergers and acquisitions.
We’re seeing tech firms do it with their blinkered focus on optimisation over possibility..
And we’re seeing governments do it with their disregard of the arts in favour of business.
And while, of course, money is hugely important … when the impact and value on how society feels and interacts is disregarded, the economic benefit ends up being even more short-term.
Some people won’t care.
Some people are only focused on what they can get out of something rather than what they can give or enable for someone else.
Which is why I’m so grateful to whoever made this piece of literal street art.
Because it’s far more than just decorating a bit of the pavement, it’s a reminder of the choice we have. Because while the ‘economically functional’ may be easier, cheaper, faster and more convenient, its the stuff that you know is born from someone’s passion that leaves the most lasting impression.
Talking of passion, I’m away next week in one of my favorite places in the World, Vietnam.
[I say that, it all depends on what the doctors say about my eye at today’s check up. Eek]
It’s exciting for 3 reasons.
1. I’ve not been there for years.
2. It’s where I helped create the ‘4×4 on 2 wheels‘.
2. It means that after 3 months of pain, my eye is doing well enough to travel again.
And before you ask, it is for work – even though I get to see friends there at the same time.
So while I’m off experiencing the place with the most infectious spirit, unstoppable energy and relentless optimism in Asia, I hope you have a week finding and celebrating the things that may make no economic sense to an accountant but make so much sense to your soul.
Because in these days of beige and boring, creativity is not so much about art, but an act of rebellion on behalf of the human spirit.
See you in a week.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Family, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
As you know, I love music.
I play it.
I make it.
I listen to it.
I used to make my living from it.
I work with people who play to millions while they do it.
Music is, in many ways, a version of oxygen to me.
However, while I like all manner of music … from heavy metal to opera … there are some bands I don’t really connect to. One of those is Radiohead.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate their talent and there are music/songs they’ve written that I feel are genuinely masterful. But do I think they are worth the reputation that so many people hold them to?
Hmmmmmn, probably not … which I appreciate is entirely subjective rather than anything approaching a considered point-of-view.
And yet, I recently saw someone perform one of their songs – the admittedly iconic, ‘Creep’ – that has had such an impact on me, that I literally burst into tears at a specific point of the song, every time I listen to it.
And I’ve listened to it a lot.
I should point out that while I have always liked that track, it’s less to do with the song and more to do with who performs it and how they perform it.
It’s this [with my tears starting at exactly 2 minutes 8 seconds ]
Oh my god, I’ve just listened to it again as I am writing this and the tears are streaming down my face.
Now I should point out I have form at crying to music.
My Mum used to tell me that when I was very young – like 6 months old – I would cry at classic music that she’d put on the record player. Not because I didn’t like it, but because I was overwhelmed by the emotion of it.
And here I am, aged 54, still doing it.
There are many reasons for it.
First it’s just fucking beautiful. Proper, proper beautiful.
It’s both so simple and yet so layered …
But it’s also how two totally different musical styles bend and blend into some sort of harmonious rapture.
Where different orchestrations seem to be going on their own paths and yet, at some point, come together.
Not mechanically, but with almost a slow motion to them … making the impact of it even more majestic.
But, if I am being honest, as amazing as that is, what really hits me is this is Son and Mum.
It makes me emotional just thinking about it.
Not just because it makes me miss my Mum so much, but because both of them have come together to create something special for each other. And I do think it started that way.
The son believing his Mother’s voice was incredible. The mum wanting to support her son’s musical talent.
A genuine interest in what each other is interested in.
No judgement.
No criticism.
Just interest and openness while being able to stay utterly true to who they each are.
And by doing this, they’ve taken their separate world’s and created something together. Something special. Something that elevates their relationship because it has opened the door to new ways to share and express their love that maybe they previously never imagined.
But it’s even more than that.
Because running all the way through those 3 minutes, 25 seconds is a celebration of love.
Not just because they’re bonded by blood, but because you feel the deep sense of pride, respect and adoration of who each other is and what each other does.
It’s similar to when Pink Floyd guitarist, Dave Gilmour, turned up unannounced to a pub in Brighton to support – and sing – with his daughter Romany and yet it is also very different.
Because where Dave and Romany sang a song that was a relatively faithful rendition of the original [not to mention something you imagine they’d done together in private for years – which is said with love, not judgement] the version of ‘Creep’ is something else.
A mash-up of totally different musical styles.
A creation of something not heard before.
Something that not only takes the song to a completely new place, but demands all who listen to it open their eyes and ears to a musical style that they may of never heard before or most probably never considered would be something they’d like.
But how can you not like this.
How can you not be moved by it.
Because while the song is about low self esteem, loneliness, and the struggle to accept yourself, it inspires, radiates and ignites pure love.
The sort of love surely everyone hopes they will one day get to experience, create, share or remember.
And that is what my tears are for. And that is why I’m so grateful for them.
Remember to tell the people who matter to you, what they mean to you.
Have a good weekend.