Encore post: The new apathy

Is it possible to care too much about your work? How would I know. That's never been my problem.

Sure, I'm paid and paid well to care enough to do the best possible job I can for my clients. And I do, because I'm just that professional.

So maybe the right word isn't care. Maybe it's "serious."

Here's the thing: on the big, long list of things in the world worth taking seriously, advertising just isn't one of them. In fact, advertising is on that other list - the one that includes hybrid cars, Justin Bieber and guys who wear their pants below their ass.

Everyday I work with people who could sell ice to eskimos. But the one thing they can't sell me on is taking the business I'm in too seriously.

Don't get me wrong: I'm a firm believer that there's a reason, purpose and tangible benefit to marketing communication. The impact it can have on defining a brand, engaging the consumer and shaping a business when it's done right - I'm looking at you Apple - is nothing less than remarkable.

The part I don't take seriously are the people who take themselves so seriously.

It's always amusing to go into a meeting and see how serious everyone is. They're straightening their notepads, setting their iPhones within arms reach (you know, for that very important call that could come. At. Any. Minute.), and sitting up attentively in the chairs they've adjusted to just the proper height. Wait a minute, is that image on the screen coming wirelessly from that iPad? Is that a Powerpoint presentation? Man this is getting serious.

The other thing I've found is that the main contribution from people who are too serious is riding the brakes and slowing the process. They bring up issues and detours that aren't salient to either that process or the outcome.

And I believe all that seriousness belies a lack of trust, often in themselves.

For all the efforts they make to stay steeped in pop culture and the trends of the moment, apparently one thing they don't do is read the papers (alright, some of them read the paper on their iPad during those meetings, but still...).

There are bigger things happening in the real world that actually matter and impact lives. It's true all those ads that butt their big, fat noses into your tv watching, radio listening, online surfing, magazine reading and automobile driving also impact lives. But it's also true most of them don't do it the way those very serious faces in the conference room want them to.

Some of the funniest, most brilliant, most creative people I've ever met work in advertising. So do some of the tightest butt-clenchers and people with sticks where they shouldn't be. Maybe they could lose the sticks if they didn't clench so hard. Just a thought.

I understand everyone's doing their job the best way they know how. I just think they could do it a lot better if they didn't take themselves so seriously.

Besides, just because you take yourself seriously doesn't mean anyone else does.

It also doesn't mean you're good at your job.

In what I thought had to be a joke but wasn't, a colleague of mine actually had a Facebook post saying he loved advertising so much it made him cry. Well, it makes me cry too. Just not for the same reason.

Anyway, I hope you can forgive my little rant here. I just had to get it off my chest. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't care.

I know I don't.

An agency by any other name

A few weeks ago, , an article in the online edition of Adweek called Why Today’s Ad Agencies Are Reluctant To Call Themselves ‘Ad Agencies’ attempted to explain why agencies are now opting for more relevant and contemporary descriptors.

Like new-model, multidisciplinary marketing communications firm. Strategic content innovation partners. New media integration facilitators. And the ever popular, rarely true, agents of disruption (Great band, saw them at the Roxy in '08. You're welcome Rich Siegel).

The argument is that they feel being called an ‘ad agency’ is too limiting, and connotes all that mid to late '60s, Mad Men hijinks and buzzword whammy jammy they've tried hard to separate themselves from. More than anything, they'd like current and potential clients to think of them as jacks of all trades, everything to everyone.

I of course would like people to think of me as Chris Hemsworth's body double, but that isn't happening either.

This agency identity crisis is nothing new in the ad world. There isn’t an agency new business person worth their weight in cold calls who doesn’t know how to give a hearty handshake, pick up the lunch tab and bark "yes" when the question is “Can you guys handle that?”

Digital? We’re all bits and bites baby.

Social? This rather lengthy sentence you’re reading right now is exactly 140 characters – how many “ad agencies” do you know that can pull that off? (Go ahead, I’ll wait while you fire up character count).

Traditional? We haven’t forgotten our roots, even though we’d like you to.

Experiential? It’s an experience in itself just working with us.

I understand the thinking behind offering one-stop shopping for clients: agencies don’t want pieces of the new media pie going other places that specialize, have expertise and a track record in it—especially if those places are going do a better job of it.

The other thing is when it comes to new business, pride has never been a quality that's run rampant in agencies. They'll gladly over-represent capabilities, say they can when they can't and for the most part let clients slap 'em silly and call them Sally if it means more business.

Part of the problem is consumers don't draw a distinction between the "ad agency" that created, say, the legendary Apple 1984 spot, and the one that does local ads for Empire Carpets. All they see are good ads and bad ads.

Another reason none of these companies want to be called an ad agency is that in almost every survey of least popular occupations, advertising professional comes in right behind used car dealer and prostitutes, both of whom work with considerably higher margins and know how not to leave money on the table. Or the dresser.

Maybe next time they do a survey, they can ask about a name that might command more respect, like Communication Response Alliance Partners.

Or they can just use the acronym.

More hot air

This morning I took the wife's Land Cruiser - the car of choice I use to come up behind Smart Cars at a high rate of speed when they're stopped at red lights - to America's Tire Store. I don't know if it's really America's Tire Store, but I suppose they couldn't say it if it wasn't true.

Anyway, I was there because I think the last time my wife had the tire pressure checked was 2004, and I thought it was time to do something nice to make sure she was safe on the highways and byways.

And score some marriage points.

We buy all our tires for both cars there. The customer service is great, the prices are competitive and whether it's patching, replacing or inspecting, they're usually pretty quick about getting it done. Besides, even when they're not, they're in a shopping mall with lots of stores I like and an Edwards 26 Theater. So there's that.

They also check tire inflation for free. Instead of reading that little thing with numbers that used to pop up out of the air hose like it was really happy to see you, it's now all digital. They set the pump to the tire manufacturer recommended number, hook the hose to the tire and inflate it to exactly the proper pressure. As I suspected, all four of her tires were low, but they were the same amount of low so at least they were wearing evenly.

That's what Perkins, the person doing the checking said. I never did find out if Perkins was his first name or last name.

When it was over, Perkins said he was going to give me a "report card" on the tire inflation - the card you see here. Apparently, I got a passing grade, or "Green" in tire lingo.

By the way, great band Tire Lingo. Saw them at Coachella in '08 (that was for you Siegel).

Here's the thing: since Perkins gave me the card after he was done with the tires, wasn't it really more a report card about him than my tires? A little reminder to say, "Look how perfectly I filled your tires."

It wreaks of a desperate attempt at consumer engagement. Gee, I wonder where a mediocre and useless idea like a report card after the fact could've been generated from? Some mysteries we may never solve.

The tires were each under-inflated by 6 lbs. Not a huge number, but when I drove away I could definitely feel the improvement in the handling. I looked at the report card Perkins gave me, and smiled.

Maybe it'll help me get into a better school. These are the best grades I've had in a long time.

Humorous Religious Birthday Male Amputee Red Hair 30+

Segmentation is nothing new to advertising and marketing. We’ve been carving our clients’ targets into slimmer and slimmer segments forever, using things like age, sex, interests, interests in sex (see what I did there?), zip code, household income, number of dogs, kind of car, etc.

But the practice seems to have spilled over into other areas.

Cable channels are a good example: if you’re a foodie, the Food Network is there for you. Shopaholic? QVC 24/7. Weather enthusiast? First, if you are I wouldn’t admit it to anyone. But secondly, there’s always the Weather Channel with local weather on the 8’s – so I hear.

I recently came up against the latest example when I was looking for a birthday card for my nephew.

On the racks, the greeting cards were segmented into not only the examples here, but dozens more. All I wanted was a card that said Happy Birthday. They don’t make it easy. Maybe they think they are, but they’re not.

I should probably head over to the Complaints Chain Store CEO 50+ Birthday Cards Relatives and see what I can find.

Think different

One thing ad agencies - I mean integrated marketing communication collectives - are supposed to do, in fact the main thing, is differentiate their clients' product from competing products. Even if the competing products are exactly the same.

Yet it seems agencies aren't able to carve out any real differentiation between themselves. It's a little like the cobblers' kids not having shoes. Well, maybe not. But you see where I'm going.

I'm not talking about the work. From agency to agency, it can be vastly different. I'm talking about the way they position themselves on their websites to clients looking for agencies.

One agency with some letters in its name has "...a process that welds together creativity and accountability to produce ideas that deliver a return..." Fair enough.

An older Madison Avenue shop that's constantly trying to reinvent itself says "...we refuse to take a backseat to the creativity of any competitor when it comes to the impact of our work." If you have to say it...

Yet another says, "We deliver the precise and most powerful combination of talents and resources, customized for superior execution." I'm sorry, I dozed off at the beginning of that description.

One big westside shop is just "a group of hard-working, independent-minded, and passionate problem solvers who live to build brands.."

Yeah yeah. Sure sure.

In many ways, like cars and laundry detergents, agencies are parity products. They all do essentially the same thing. They all have essentially the same players. It's how they do it - meaning the work (and the thinking but I'm including that since the thinking results in the work) that sets them apart.

But when an agency is able to differentiate themselves on philosophy, in a way that gives you a genuine sense there are actually people using it as a northern star guiding the work they do, it's hard to ignore.

I read a lot of agency sites for this post. And the only one I could find that did what I'm talking about was Venables Bell & Partners.

I don't have any stake in naming them. They don't know who I am. I'm damn sure they don't read this blog. I've never worked there, and I don't know if I ever will. I don't even know anyone who does.

What I do know is after reading their philosophy, I'd like to.

The new apathy

Is it possible to care too much about your work? How would I know. That's never been my problem.

Sure, I'm paid and paid well to care enough to do the best possible job I can for my clients. And I do, because I'm just that professional.

So maybe the right word isn't care. Maybe it's "serious."

Here's the thing: on the big, long list of things in the world worth taking seriously, advertising just isn't one of them. In fact, advertising is on that other list - the one that includes hybrid cars, Justin Bieber and guys who wear their pants below their ass.

Everyday I work with people who could sell ice to eskimos. But the one thing they can't sell me on is taking the business I'm in too seriously.

Don't get me wrong: I'm a firm believer that there's a reason, purpose and tangible benefit to marketing communication. The impact it can have on defining a brand, engaging the consumer and shaping a business when it's done right - I'm looking at you Apple - is nothing less than remarkable.

The part I don't take seriously are the people who take themselves so seriously.

It's always amusing to go into a meeting and see how serious everyone is. They're straightening their notepads, setting their iPhones within arms reach (you know, for that very important call that could come. At. Any. Minute.), and sitting up attentively in the chairs they've adjusted to just the proper height. Wait a minute, is that image on the screen coming wirelessly from that iPad? Is that a Powerpoint presentation? Man this is getting serious.

The other thing I've found is that the main contribution from people who are too serious is riding the brakes and slowing the process. They bring up issues and detours that aren't salient to either that process or the outcome.

And I believe all that seriousness belies a lack of trust, often in themselves.

For all the efforts they make to stay steeped in pop culture and the trends of the moment, apparently one thing they don't do is read the papers (alright, some of them read the paper on their iPad during those meetings, but still...).

There are bigger things happening in the real world that actually matter and impact lives. It's true all those ads that butt their big, fat noses into your tv watching, radio listening, online surfing, magazine reading and automobile driving also impact lives. But it's also true most of them don't do it the way those very serious faces in the conference room want them to.

Some of the funniest, most brilliant, most creative people I've ever met work in advertising. So do some of the tightest butt-clenchers and people with sticks where they shouldn't be. Maybe they could lose the sticks if they didn't clench so hard. Just a thought.

I understand everyone's doing their job the best way they know how. I just think they could do it a lot better if they didn't take themselves so seriously.

Besides, just because you take yourself seriously doesn't mean anyone else does.

It also doesn't mean you're good at your job.

In what I thought had to be a joke but wasn't, a colleague of mine actually had a Facebook post saying he loved advertising so much it made him cry. Well, it makes me cry too. Just not for the same reason.

Anyway, I hope you can forgive my little rant here. I just had to get it off my chest. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't care.

I know I don't.