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.

Encore post: Curing cancer

This post originally appeared about eight years ago. Amazing isn't it? Not the post—the fact I've been cranking this stuff out over eight years.

The reason for the repost at this particular point in the juncture, I'm sorry to say, is the situation has gotten much, much worse. Seriousness at advertising agencies has reached—and forgive the term—pandemic proportions. It's spreading faster than ever.

What's driving it? Decisions and work that's data driven. Nonstop metric measuring (my metric's bigger than yours). Low supply and high demand for just about everything. Fear, fear and more fear. Of keeping jobs and accounts. Losing jobs and accounts. Flying under the radar. Standing out in the meeting. Budgets being cut. Fear at agencies in a post covid world is running more rampant than ever before.

All of this has led to more meetings and pep talks with charts showing how serious the situation is.

I prefer to take the opposing position: if we can't have fun and enjoy a business where we get to dress like fifteen-year olds, make shit up all day, eat free pizza, bagels and meeting leftovers more often than any healthy human should, then what hope is there?

Have a read and see if you don't agree.

And by all means, take this post very, very seriously. As I know you will.

Every once in awhile, I'm reminded in no uncertain terms that we do very important work in advertising. Very important. It’s obvious isn’t it? If the work wasn’t life or death - which it apparently is – then why would some people in the business treat it that way? People in advertising wouldn’t lie.

Nah, I’m just funnin’ ya. It isn’t. And they would.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: people take themselves too damn seriously in a business that’s supposed to be fun. Not fun in the ha-ha sense, but fun in the working hard, producing something we can be proud of creatively and that moves sales for the client sense.

There’s also award show and media girl fun, but that’s for another post.

Just today, a friend of mine asked what happened to, “Here’s a great idea, we love it, here’s a shitload of money now go produce it.” Good question.

The answer of course is fear. Fear is what happened to it. Fear of making a decision, and fear of taking responsibility for that decision. Fear of losing your job over that decision. Fear of telling a creative team to just go produce an idea without a room of 12 strangers who know nothing about it to back them up.

I’ve never been one to be accused of overthinking the work, and that may explain two things: first is my unfrightened attitude. For some reason, when you don’t take things as seriously as other people do it really bothers them. They feel like you’re not a “team player” (by the way, whole other post about that phrase coming soon - oops, may have tipped my hand).

And second, it’s the reason I prefer freelance. Going on staff means one thing and one thing only (hint: contrary to popular belief it's not job security). It means you have to take it seriously.

Don't misunderstand, I know full well there are serious aspects to what we do. Millions of dollars are spent, and clients, understandably, expect to results from it. Careers and reputations are often made and broken on one decision. But those things are the price of entry of being in the business, and everyone at the door waiting to come in knows it.

The thing is, after everything you've given and sacrificed and struggled through to get in, there's still a constant demand for a blood oath to show how serious you are about it.

For example, I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way the powers that be decided if creative people were really going to be serious about it, they should be on call 24 hrs. a day, like doctors (who actually are curing cancer and making a real difference). And they should be on call with their personal cell phones without reimbursement.

That seems fair.

There are agency cultures that live and breathe by the if-you're-not-here-on-Saturday-don't-bother-coming-in-Sunday credo. I've worked for them, we all have. But like my pal Rich Siegel at Round Seventeen so aptly put it, I didn't drink the Kool-Aid. No need to linger after school if I have nothing to do just to make sure I'm seen after hours.

If I'm not there, start without me.

Here's what I know for sure. We're creating a disposable product no one outside of the client is asking for. Occasionally it does some good. Once in a while it's extremely creative. And when it moves product, whatever that product is, it's a great thing for all involved. Don't get me wrong: just because our product is disposable doesn't mean there aren't great commercials deservedly burned into the public conscious for the right reasons. For example, Apple's "1984" spot.

But for every "1984" there are a thousand "Mucinex in. Mucus out." spots.

Which is hard to believe, given all the seriousness that went into them.

The most wonderful time of the day

I think breakfast has been hogging the spotlight as "the most important meal of the day" for far too long. It's a new morning in America. And as the sun rises on this new morning, we skip breakfast and go straight to the rightful holder of the title: Lunch.

There are a couple things I look forward to everyday as I make my scenic, freeway-free commute to work. One is the end of the day, and the other is lunch.

Neither ever gets here fast enough.

There's a strange phenomenon in advertising agencies I've talked about before here and here. People take themselves way too seriously. They think they're contributing something—shall we say, more meaningful—to society than they really are.

One way that kind of thinking reveals itself is by not going to lunch.

Apparently some agency people have talked themselves into thinking the work they're doing is too important to stop for lunch (it isn't), if they take a lunch break they'll fall behind (you won't), and that they can't go to lunch because what if the client calls? (News flash—the client's out to lunch).

You see these people in the kitchen between 11:45a.m. and 1p.m., loitering in front of the bad coffee, next to the dirty microwave waiting for it to ding. Then they're back at their desks, typing that Powerpoint presentation with one hand and eating Stouffer's Lasagna, again, with the other.

From where I sit, at the restaurant down the street waiting for my food to be brought to my table, it's a sad existence.

A few agencies I've been at cater lunch in every day. It's positioned as a nice, money-saving perk for the employees. But don't be fooled. Their intentions aren't that altruistic. They knows people take shorter lunches if they don't go out, so they can get more work hours out of them. As if just being there actually equalled productivity.

Anyone who's ever worked with me can tell you that's not true.

Personally, I have to make a break from the compound everyday. I spend too much time there already, and if I don't get out, feel the air, the sun and walk around a bit, it just feels like I'm biding time until my parole hearing.

I understand not wanting to spend money eating out every day. By the time you've split the check with the person who had a three-course meal while you had a cup of soup, and add tax and tip, you feel like you need a co-signer just to pay the check. But I think the more important thing to ask is what's the psychological cost of not going out for lunch at least once in awhile?

I have no idea either, but I'll bet it's pretty high.

Curing cancer

Every once in awhile, I'm reminded in no uncertain terms that we do very important work in advertising. Very important. It’s obvious isn’t it? If the work wasn’t life or death - which it apparently is – then why would some people in the business treat it that way? People in advertising wouldn’t lie.

Nah, I’m just funnin’ ya. It isn’t. And they would.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: people take themselves too damn seriously in a business that’s supposed to be fun. Not fun in the ha-ha sense, but fun in the working hard, producing something we can be proud of creatively and that moves sales for the client sense.

There’s also award show and media girl fun, but that’s for another post.

Just today, a friend of mine asked what happened to, “Here’s a great idea, we love it, here’s a shitload of money now go produce it.” Good question.

The answer of course is fear. Fear is what happened to it. Fear of making a decision, and fear of taking responsibility for that decision. Fear of losing your job over that decision. Fear of telling a creative team to just go produce an idea without a room of 12 strangers who know nothing about it to back them up.

I’ve never been one to be accused of overthinking the work, and that may explain two things: first is my unfrightened attitude. For some reason, when you don’t take things as seriously as other people do it really bothers them. They feel like you’re not a “team player” (by the way, whole other post about that phrase coming soon - oops, may have tipped my hand).

And second, it’s the reason I prefer freelance. Going on staff means one thing and one thing only (hint: contrary to popular belief it's not job security). It means you have to take it seriously.

Don't misunderstand, I know full well there are serious aspects to what we do. Millions of dollars are spent, and clients, understandably, expect to results from it. Careers and reputations are often made and broken on one decision. But those things are the price of entry of being in the business, and everyone at the door waiting to come in knows it.

The thing is, after everything you've given and sacrificed and struggled through to get in, there's still a constant demand for a blood oath to show how serious you are about it.

For example, I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way the powers that be decided if creative people were really going to be serious about it, they should be on call 24 hrs. a day, like doctors (who actually are curing cancer and making a real difference). And they should be on call with their personal cell phones without reimbursement.

That seems fair.

There are agency cultures that live and breathe by the if-you're-not-here-on-Saturday-don't-bother-coming-in-Sunday credo. I've worked for them, we all have. But like my pal Rich Siegel at Round Seventeen so aptly put it, I didn't drink the Kool-Aid. No need to linger after school if I have nothing to do just to make sure I'm seen after hours.

If I'm not there, start without me.

Here's what I know for sure. We're creating a disposable product no one outside of the client is asking for. Occasionally it does some good. Once in a while it's extremely creative. And when it moves product, whatever that product is, it's a great thing for all involved. Don't get me wrong: just because our product is disposable doesn't mean there aren't great commercials deservedly burned into the public conscious for the right reasons. For example, Apple's "1984" spot.

But for every "1984" there are a thousand "Mucinex in. Mucus out." spots.

Which is hard to believe, given all the seriousness that went into them.

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.