© Copyright 2007 Crain Communications Inc.
Published: 05/01/2007Section: POV
Page: 4
Story type: opinion
Doing What Matters
Byline: Brian Collins
In 1941, the Bulova Watch Co. broadcast the first TV commercial during a Brooklyn Dodgers game, on WNBT. They paid only $9, but advertising changed overnight. By the 1950s, David Ogilvy's genius was to put some science into that mix: If you understand people well enough, you can project what you've learned into the future. Assuming, of course, that the future was simply an extension of the past. And for 50 years, it almost was. But everything changed. Again. And judging Creativity's first awards has given me great heart that imagination and courage is alive and not only thriving in advertising but in amazing new products and experiences. Here are some random thoughts that came to mind as I reviewed this year's best work.
The One Big Idea model is dead. The last half of the 20th century was the only time when there has ever been a model. Since the dawn of commerce, niche products and shifting micro-segments have always been the! rule. TV created massive markets for mediocre, ``good enough'' stuff. That was the exception. Now we're back to chaos again, and we're not going back. This has undone some marketing organizations that are used to placing the bulk of their efforts in one broad, top-down, agency-controlled idea. Single-minded communication--The Big Idea--makes life easy for communicators. But people aren't single-minded. We're too busy living our lives to pay attention. We know what we love, and it's not brands spread like jam across every piece of media in our face. It's lots and lots of small, weird, new ideas and products--in lots of different places-so amazing that people will seek them out. Axe's ``Gamekillers'' is a smart example of making something so remarkable, people will do just that.
The answer isn't more advertising. Three generations of agency creative leaders grew up with media that interrupted what people really wanted to see. By definition, advertising marginalized it! self; it was stuck between things that people cared about more. So age ncies learned the power of rapid-fire storytelling. And the best ones raised their stories to the flashpoint. Apple's ``1984'' commercial created a myth in 60 seconds. Twenty years later, new-media shops proclaimed the irrelevance of narrative in interactive. ``It's the all about utility!'' Well, sure. But as long as there are humans, it's never ``all about utility.'' As utility becomes commodity, utility with stories will be what people seek. The Nike+iPod product and companion website is a perfect example of this future.
You can't buy passion. Why create things people will like when you can create what people love? Regardless of discipline, we're all now in the business of inciting contagious passion. Mass deadens, and corporate leaders are figuring this out faster than I could have hoped. ``We're all just one step away from commodity hell,'' says GE's Geoffrey Immelt. Doing something breathtaking is the only safe spec. But to make things people love means you will,! inevitably, make things some people will hate. I've judged the Skittles campaign twice this year, and each time it floors me. Monty Python in their heyday were this good. But some people on one of the juries despised this work. It completely wigged them out. Thank God. Seeing Skittles renewed my faith in almost everything I love about working in this business.
``Oops'' happens. With the iceberg dead ahead, the crew tried to steer the Titanic instead of just stopping it. The Titanic would still have hit the iceberg, but the ship would have stayed afloat. A lot of branding work gets going in the wrong direction and the people on the bridge make the same mistake--trying to steer through a disaster instead of just saying ``Stop!'' Unilever stopped a big campaign halfway through, scrapped everything and started all over. Dove's ``Campaign for Real Beauty'' was the result. The ``Evolution'' film is that campaign's most remarkable idea to date. Even Tara, my 11-year-old ni! ece, now knows what the beauty industry kept secret for so long.
It's changing, but television is still the world's campfire. On a brand scale, TV can still create phenomena. Whatever you think of American Idol, it's a weekly event that incites people in astonishing numbers to engage. Sometimes, even ads will still engage on that scale. When I was 10, I saw Coke's ``Hilltop'' commercial. It was the height of the Vietnam war, and here were kids from all over the world who wanted to teach the world to sing. And they did. Millions of kids like me bought the 45 single. We all wanted to be the people on that hill. Coca-Cola appears to be hitting such a solid creative stride again. The violence of a popular game like Rockstar's Grand Theft Auto was magically twisted by Coke into a giddy, over-the-top all-singing, all-dancing musical number that would embarrass Busby Berkeley. It's a daring act of optimism. The spot isn't cool, and that's cool. It showed that the ``Coke Side of Life'' may be a campaign that lasts longer than their rotating mar! keting chiefs.
War is the wrong metaphor for marketing. How can we think we'll inspire hearts and minds when we drive ``penetration'' by launching ``campaigns'' against ``target demographics''? When I go around agencies and see conference rooms rebranded as War Rooms, it makes my teeth hurt. Selling isn't about conquest. It's about what marketers and their customers have and can do in common. Still, you love battle metaphors? Fine. Then ask: What's worth marching for together? Hey, I know. That amazing $100 laptop computer to get into the hands of children around the world. Let's go.
A storm is coming. Are you going to hunker down? Or are you going out to meet it? Walt Disney was his own storm. Cartoon shorts were only the beginning of his career. When you think about it, he started off doing what many agency people still aspire to today--making mini-movies. The difference is that Disney didn't stay with what he knew. He was at the forefront of every new techn! ology. He changed every five years, always asking, What's the next thi ng? And the next thing after that. What's weird to me is how so many agency people still believe that the height of creative achievement is getting a spot on the Super Bowl. I mean, after 50 years, is that all we've really got?
Put down the camera. Please. Pick up some other tools and try to build something that's inherently inspiring, on its own. David Ogilvy came to advertising from a research organization. In the early years, he preached that success could be codified, and should be replicated. Later on, he saw that the future was no longer the lengthened shadow of the past. ``Change,'' he said, ``is our lifeblood.'' And that's exactly what I saw throughout this work. And it's about time.
Judge Brian Collins of Ogilvy's Brand Integration Group (who announced his departure from Ogilvy this month) was inspired by the first Creativity Awards winners.
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