Thanks for the quote @sneakerboxClyde!
When I first started in advertising, the industry was at the tail end of a very classical period. Projects would often take over a year, and the deliverables were primarily magazine ads and television commercials.
Anything on the Internet was considered a geeky experiment and not to be trusted. I joined Twitter during its first year, and I remember suggesting using it for a campaign. I was roundly laughed out of the room for my naivety. The same thing happened with proposing a campaign that would work entirely on Facebook.
Refresh your browser to today, when Twitter and Facebook have become a core consideration on every single advertising brief. Gone are the year-long concepting grinds. Replaced by a new kind of fluid client-agency partnership that takes incredible collaboration to meet the ever quickening deadlines. The process is often chaotic during the making of these things, but when the dust settles, we have projects that everyone takes pride in.
I think the model for advertising used to model the process cycle of filmmaking and the fine arts. But as technology has tipped into mainstream ubiquity, the advertising model I find myself operating in is closer to developing, programming and hacking. It’s our job to bring as much taste and aesthetics to this process, but you need to shift your mind into a perpetual beta state to keep up. The rules of the digital landscape are being written on a daily basis, so there can be seismic shifts mid-production, or even after launch. If you don’t find a way to cope with that new reality, you’ll go mad, and your projects will never be realized.
I find myself creating ‘theories’ more than concepts these days. While I always start from a core idea, I try to keep my mind loose, to be receptive to a range of executional options. I also try to use as many digital platforms and tools as possible, so that I constantly know where the edges of the playing field are.
It’s impossible to predict where tomorrow’s innovation will take us. All we can do is stay fluid and adapt. All we can do is be water, my friend. We can’t predict the future, but we can be smart about building a mobile foundation that will be able to react and take advantage of this constantly evolving digital landscape.
TweetMy business card says ‘Andrew Miller. Copywriter.’
I’ve never been satisfied with that title. I respect it, but don’t feel like it defines me well. ‘Copywriter’ to me sounds like something that is hanging on from the days of Madmen. I know it’s a strong calling card in the world of advertising, but as the world of advertising is stretching on a daily basis into ‘the world of creativity,’ I struggle to understand how the term can keep up.
Traditionally a copywriter wrote the words that would appear in advertising. They would write scripts for television commercials, and headlines and body copy for print ads. I do all of those things, but I feel like that is only 10% of my job description.
I also design websites, create mobile apps, build interactive experiences, create ways to visualize data, figure out the best way to use Facebook, develop campaigns that live on Twitter, have meetings not just with directors and photographers, but also event planners, software engineers, coders and hackers.
I know I’m not alone. I know these duties are the new standard for advertising creatives. Maybe that’s why a much broader cross section of industries are now interested in having conversations. Being a copywriter in 2012 feels like a tremendous education in modern creativity. The experiments and the failures feel more valuable than ever as we are all hacking our way to figure out which way leads up.
So, what title do we put on our business cards? (err… LinkedIn profiles?)
Writing TV spots and snappy headlines is the foundation. It’s the kind of thing we’re called on to do in a jam these days. There’s a time and a place for it. But more and more so, in a world gone fully digital, there is an open-source, beta-mindset of trial and error that we are expected to engage with, create ideas around and give advice about without blinking an eye.
I’ve had some running arguments with some digital obsessed folks lately about Tumblr. They argue that Tumblr can’t decide what it wants to be when it grows up. They say that the surefire successful emerging sites like Pinterest have a very clear metaphor that powers users to understand them. They claim Pinterest is the refrigerator door. Okay. I can accept that. But why can’t Tumblr be ‘the teenagers bedroom wall?’
Some people knock Tumblr for not being a more organized social network. But why does Tumblr have to aspire to be a social network. It’s primary purpose is not to build connections. Tumblr exists to make it really damn easy to express yourself online. It is a digital bedroom wall. There needs to be no order in that metaphor. In fact, the bedroom wall analogy almost demands an element of chaos. I think Tumblr is evolving in a great way. They could do something to curate and show off some of the higher quality ‘bedroom walls,’ but the basic functionality and what it let’s you do is there.
TweetEinstein wasn’t an overnight genius.
What I’m struck with in reading Walter Issacson’s biography of the quirky genius is the struggle he went through to develop his now legendary theories of the universe. While he had an elite grasp of mathematics, I’m most impressed with reading about his determination and rebellious spirit in the face of a very stuffy and political scientific community.
It was his failure to land his dream job as a university professor that bought him time to wrestle with his theories as an outsider. He grew increasingly defiant of the established scientific community as he went about his very regular job at a patent office. He was able to complete his daily tasks easily and quickly, giving him vast amounts of time to conduct theoretical thought experiments that would years later, revolutionize the way we understand the physical universe.
The biography points out the origin of Einstein’s various theories, which were often sparked about in conversation, and then toiled over for years. Eventually Einstein officially cracked them and polished them to be presentable enough that the academic community that he had been shunned by could no longer lock him out.
He changed things.
How many of us are willing to toil with a single problem for a decade?
The genius of Einstein wasn’t the enlightened work of an afternoon. Einstein’s genius was the eventual manifestation of a lifetime of focus in one direction.
I am inspired by such far-sighted determination. I am inspired to only pick and fight battles that I can clearly see connected to a larger idealogical war. I want to move in a focused direction. You see this in many world class athletes. I trace this same trait back to Einstein as well.
Tweet
Technology is not the revolution. Technology has existed from the time man built the first primitive tool. Technology is an evolution. The revolution lies in how people will use the tools of our time. Will they be happy to use new sophisticated tools to merely kill their time by sending videos of cats to their friends. Or will they search their souls, find their message and purpose first, and then use the relevant technology as a platform to express themselves. Where is the stuff worth finding? We are stuck in a frenzying beta loop of learning to ride the bicycle that is the Internet. That is constant-connectedness. We’ve all got our training wheels on still, and are sheepishly taking laps around the same familiar blocks. The neighborhoods where our friends are. The projects of Twitter, the (loosely) gated community of Facebook and long idle walks along the beaches of Google. Where is the depth to our curiosity? We’re stuck in a recyclists loop of reblogging. No original thinking. We’re content to sample the thinking and productions of others in hopes of giving ourselves a temporary status bump. In hopes of attracting spontaneous ‘likes.’ It has become our drug. We need those likes. We can’t remember what it was like before those likes. But the lasting nutritional value of this kind of cycle leaves us with an empty feeling. Every time we sit down at our computer, or pull one out of our pocket, are we just digitally snacking? Are we downing conceptual bags of Doritos with our online activity? Where is the beef? Where is the salad? What will round out our digital habits? If we are original. If we commit to producing a certain portion of original content and not just idling consuming. Original thinking, in ways big and small will be what tips the scales and leads to the next revolution. It’s a revolution that has been stalled. But man, do we have some awesome weapons ready for free thinking warriors who have an interest and passion for pushing us forward. Creativity will usher in the revolution. We’ve just experienced an unprecedented acceleration of technology that has taken us to futuristic places. And now, here we are, in danger of an epic stall. In danger of treading water. The next great leap in technology will be the leap in our ability to use it creatively. The competitive edge in every industry will come down to who champions the best creative thinking. As we all share the same working knowledge of our tools, it will be these creative free thinkers who can infuse cold technology with the inventiveness of the human spirit that will triumph. The same standard thought models will crumble, in favor of fresh thinking. Brand new ideas. The technology has become the messenger, but we must still responsibly craft our message. That goes for big brands. That goes for the individual. To advance as mankind, we must become much better at using the tools of our time. We must harness our spirits, distill them in ways optimized for our modern tools and then deliver them into the ether that is available to all.
Andrew Miller, Copywriter at Wieden+Kennedy.
The problem could be about a negative perception that needs flipping. It could be that no one realizes a certain product’s key benefit. It could be a topical societal problem that a brand wants to address.
The bigger and more immediate the problem, the better and more provocative the creative solutions will be. If there is no problem clearly identified, you run the risk of inspiring a very generic set of creative solutions.
A creative brief should carry a feeling of immediacy. You should inspire the creative team to see a very specific window of opportunity. The brief should feel relevant and timely and like it could only be delivered under the current set of circumstances. This approach will light the creative fires.
Great creative briefs clearly lay out a relevant conversation within a specific target audience. The conversation should be as polarizing as possible, and the creative brief should educate the creative team on what the debates in this conversation are.
Everything outside of the specific problem that needs immediate solving, is extremely secondary. If you have inspired the creative team to understand the breadth and depth of your central problem, you have done an extraordinary job delivering your creative brief.
Japan has one of the richest history’s of visual aesthetics of any culture in the world. The history of Japanese art is sophisticated and varied in it’s presentation.
Their graphic paintings served as inspiration to Van Gogh. Their attention to detail in design is world renown. The organic yet refined brushwork of their written characters or some of the most unique and artful examples of typography the world has ever seen.
Japanese animators, poster designers, and graphic artists continue to pioneer at the very forefront of the modern art world.
Stop.
Despite this incredibly rich visual tradition, there is nary a trace of these groundbreaking visuals when it comes to modern Japanese advertising.
From subway posters to TV commercials, 99% of what you see is a textbook case of writing the book and then going faithfully by that book. Japanese advertising could not be more inside of the box. This point was loosely touched on in the American film, Lost In Translation, where actor playing an actor Bill Murray is instructed to hold his beverage up at a very specific angle, and then drying say the campaign tagline. That one scene brings to life the backstory of seemingly thousands of Japanese advertisements. Simply switch in the latest pop star, have them hold the drink/watch/food item/widget at the appropriate angle and utter the campaign tagline as dryly as possible.
Cut. Print. Ship. Next campaign.
No chances. No surprises. Just cleanly checking the boxes and making the public suffer through another wave of the same old same old.
The print often comes across as awkward and literal, first year art school level comps. There appears to be zero regard fir craftsmanship and finish. And often the pieces that hint at a strong idea, end up getting slaughtered in an over eager, junior level execution.
The saving grace of the Japanese commercial arts is found in the retail space. Store design is where you can witness the inspiring chances being taken. It’s where you can feel the innovative personality of Japan’s elite design sense.
Package design is also alarmingly present as an art form. I often buy items for the packaging alone, and feel bad for ever opening such an affecting art object.
Apparently the chasm between the art world and the advertising world exists because of the priorities and structure of the typical Japanese advertising agency. Agencies are notoriously account and media driven, relegating the vast majority of creatives as barely necessary cogs in a much larger matrix of regularly scheduled and pre-bought media placement consumption.
There is no concept of a ‘creatively driven’ advertising agency. There are a host of smaller, digital boutiques where you can find the most innovative commercial work in Japan happening. But again, the gridlock of the commercial industry has boxed out the best creative intentions, and martyred a host of would-be creative thinkers to little more than briefcase toting yes men who are mandated never to question a client. To never step in and save a client from the pitfalls and mediocrity that rounds of lifeless over testing of ideas tends to render.
It’s a shame, because the commercials arts could be a wonderful platform for the talented artists, designers, musicians, filmmakers and photographers of this nation to show their craft.
In the meantime, until a creative revolution, I suppose the essence of modern Japanese art will stay hidden, exposed to a select few patrons of taste, in tiny clubs, galleries and undefinable art spaces of the Tokyo underground.
I fear what this lack of exposure to tasteful art will do to generations of impressionable minds, who will only have a very shallow, top down view of what mass communication can be. I suppose the single-minded, one beat tone of Japanese commercial messaging could turn off a generation of consumers, and drive them to their own personal journey of artistic discovery.
