Passion plays big role in advertising

Published on 03/12/2001 under Potpourri

Most of us have heard since we were toddlers that anything done to excess is bad. Go ahead and drink, but not too much. Hobbies are good, but don’t get obsessed with them. Work hard, but don’t be a workaholic. “Everything in moderation” is the basic rule, and there are times when the rule makes sense.
Unfortunately, I can’t seem to do anything in moderation. If I join a group, before you know it, I’ve been elected president. If my grandson starts collecting Pokémon cards, I’m not satisfied until we have the whole set. And if I’m working on a marcom project, I want it to be the best project my client can get for the money. I even feel that way when my client tells me not to get too worked up about a project (which is what they tend to say when they want something done cheap).
But it’s occurred to me that I wouldn’t have to get so worked up about things if the people who direct and approve marcom work felt a little more passionately about it—not just how we craft it, but what it’s supposed to do for them when the dust settles.
One of my favorite anecdotes about passion in advertising is about legendary art director George Lois and his subway poster for Goodman matzoh bread.
Lois was just beginning his career at Doyle Dane Bernbach (1959) and had designed a poster to sell matzoh at Passover, complete with a short headline in Hebrew. The client didn’t like it and the account guy couldn’t sell it, but not wanting to take “no” for an answer, Lois demanded to go see the client himself. After an hour of “debate,” however, the client still didn’t like it, and Lois was running out of time and arguments. So, spotting an open window, he grabbed his poster and climbed out on the window ledge, proclaiming to the world, “You make the matzoh, I’ll make the ads.” Just as he was starting to lose his grip, the client agreed to run the poster.
Matzoh sales were exceptionally good that Passover season, thanks in large part to the unusual advertising.
One of the most memorable clients I’ve had the privilege of working for was the Rock Island Railroad—in fact, I have the dubious distinction of being the last account executive The Rock ever had. The proud old line had been in bankruptcy for several years before its managers came to us, but the important thing is they cared passionately about keeping the railroad alive—and they were willing to try almost anything to do that.
We produced low-cost TV spots and bought The Tonight Show and Today Show in local markets where shipping conventions were being held. We got Interstate Commerce Commission permission to hold a “20% Off Sale” on piggyback freight headed east from Denver. (The flatcars were going back empty as it was.) We conducted sales blitzes in major markets, concluding with “customer appreciation” dinners to thank customers (and prospects) for the opportunity to do business with them.
The campaign worked so well, the union decided—prematurely—that the railroad’s return to health was complete and struck to regain lost benefits and compensation. It was the final straw for the bankruptcy judge, who ordered the railroad liquidated. But the point is, we were achieving incredible results, because the client urged us to try things that had never been done. It was truly exciting.
Too many marcom programs lack that excitement these days. Look at all the tired, boring, play-it-safe ads in trade publications, and the reality eventually sinks in: Somebody approved this junk! You can blame it on agencies and design firms if you want, but my experience is that executives of client companies who demand great work will get it, and those who want cheap, uninspired work will find someone who’ll deliver that, too.
Sometimes, lame work comes from an agency that produces outstanding work for other clients. This isn’t necessarily their fault; we display the work of which we’re proudest in dozens of large frames in my agency hallways and conference rooms. If we’ve been working for a client for 10 to 12 months and none of the work has “made the walls,” we know that relationship is not long for this world, either because we’re not able to navigate the minefields or motivate them to set the bar higher. It doesn’t matter if we get fired or reluctantly decide to resign the business; no agency wants to be associated with uninspired work. You’re better off spending your time in search of a more compatible and enlightened client.
I remember an experience as a young account executive where we had agreed to take on a “dietary ice cream” product. This was a new marketing situation for me. At one point, the agency president, creative director and I were considering new package design options on a conference room table. As the pros and cons of each design were discussed, the creative director looked at me and asked, “Which one do you think will stand out best in the dairy case?”
I hadn’t a clue, and he exploded: “How do you expect to direct the advertising for this product if you haven’t even taken the time to go to the grocery store?” (His language probably wasn’t that polite, but I was half-way down the stairs before he finished his sentence, anyway.) Needless to say, my head was a little more in the game the next time we got together, and my passion for dietary ice cream grew with every new dairy case discovery. You might say it was a sweet revelation, except that dietary ice cream really doesn’t taste that good.

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