something I wish weren't true really is

I've never been one to celebrate the alleged mysteries of the discipline of Advertising. Because, really, what we do is not difficult.

But that doesn't mean that just anyone can string a couple of words together and get hired as a copywriter. There is real precision in what we do, both in terms of the craft of executing an ad, and in terms of selling it. And most people who think that they could be writers or art designers, while they may be very good at messing around with colours, words or shapes, just don't get the precision that's required.

Which means that it's really hard to walk in off the street and nail a job at an ad agency.

I wish this weren't true. I didn't go to copywriting or design school; I did an English Lit degree, and fell into this marketing pit. Many of the people I like working with have other backgrounds and interests that make them not just interesting creatives, but interesting people. It's tough to get that breadth if you graduate from high school and go straight into a program at Humber or Seneca.

But that program is also how you know what ad agencies really need. It's where you learn how they think, how you need to think, and you get a sense of how to work with a brief, and present your work. And these days, there are so many promising newcomers who have taken college ad programs that, no matter how much raw talent you have, it's virtually impossible to come into an agency cold – without college training – and be as good as those who have.

That's not to say that, if you don't have college ad training, it's a waste of time to approach a CD and have her or him look at your book. It isn't. But I've learned that you can't expect that CD to hire you, or say much of anything beyond get yourself into a college program.

An advertising program isn't technically a prerequisite to getting a job. But it may as well be.

the verdict (on your crappy brief to the agency)

Our friendly neighbourhood co-blogger Steve C. reports via steam-powered email about a tidbit of Massachusetts law that actually has some relevance for this thing of ours: 

"The credible evidence amounts to this: Representing a [professional woman] with disposable income and a zealous interest in litigating against [two of] her former employers, the respondent allowed the client to dictate a misguided strategy involving excessive and improper discovery requests that did not materially advance the client's cases but did generate large hourly-based fees for the respondent."

Steve wonders about the parallel responsibilities that marketers have to their clients – to wit, do you tell your client they're wrong? Do you tell them they're wasting their money, especially when they have a lot of money? And how exactly do you do tell them that?

Now, law's a far more regulated discipline than advertising, meaning that there are clear rules for dealing with this stuff, and punishments that can be levied, up to and including disbarment. But (perhaps unbelievably, to the general public) even most advertisers do have some professional scruples. (And yes, we even have a code of ethics, or two.) And however unlikely it may seem, I have been party several times to the process of saying, "Um, no, really bad idea guys."

It's pretty liberating. It's also extremely fucking terrifying.

In this business you never want to say "no" to clients. Even in as big a market as Toronto, there is a remarkably small pool of clients in pretty much every industry, and even one bad impression can rob you and your agency of vital business years down the road. Typically, conscience and capitalism don't mix well.

But in my experience, if you know something's going to tank (a spot, a site, whatever) before you even begin to brief the job, most senior ad folks will tell the client that up front. (Our Massachusetts legal friends apparently didn't do a very good job of this.)

Now, are these ad folks so noble and pure that they're willing to forego millions of dollars simply because it's ethically right?

Well, maybe. But there's a whole lot of self interest in it, too. This thing we do works best when it's in the context of a long-term relationship with the client. And relationships only work when there's a fair degree of honesty between the parties. In such a context, simply doing what you're told and executing the sure-fire loser campaign, without complaint, is a good way to get dumped. (It's called order taking and I've railed against it recently.) Good relationships have back and forth, after all, and involve messiness and agreements to disagree. This is the environment in which trust gets built and good work gets done. Plus bad relationships are doomed anyway, so you may as well get out on your ethical high horse.

This will usually happen in an email, as well as in person. It's not done lightly. And in my experience it's a pretty clear statement, without a lot of pussyfooting.

So now you've warned the client that what they want to do is a really bad idea, and a money loser. What if they still want to do it? Well, the client may take it elsewhere, knowing how low your enthusiasm is. Or they may say, we know it's bad, it's still got to happen and we want you to do it. Human nature and business being what they are, you take it and do the best you can.

And if you're lucky, the whole schmozzle leads to a better relationship with your client.

Does it always? No. Hence the terror I mentioned earlier.