OK. I’ll admit it. I was a mole in advertising for one year. I didn’t intend it as a deliberate reconnaissance mission, but I soon realized I had infiltrated the deepest, darkest caverns of a world many of us assume is all glitter and fun and skateboards and sex appeal.
My one-year contract job as senior account director for a Fortune 500, business-to-business account at a Toronto ad agency sheds light on a subject I now know to be taboo: There are two distinct sides to an advertising agency and they are by no means equal when it comes to basic kindness from one colleague to another. On top of that, it seems that the client-determined by sheer degree of sexiness-can come in dead last in this wacky creative-account management-client service triad.
Let’s start with the creative side-or creative dark side as I’ve come to know it. These are the folks who make advertising magic happen, or so they are told on an hourly basis, and come to believe. They are copywriters, art directors, designers and creative directors. Some of them are very nice people. And some of them remind you of a Grade 3 schoolyard bully.
On the other side of the concrete fence sits client services. I suppose I have a bias, but it is well known that these positions are the most thankless in an agency. In truth, I didn’t know the meaning of thankless until I accepted the senior account director contract position. Having run a business communications firm for more than 15 years, I wrongly assumed that an ad agency contract might spice up my slightly more conservative professional landscape.
I was the key liaison between an ahead-of-its-game financial goliath and the creative team at a mid-size (about 65 people), agency. It appeared to be a dream job for someone with my aptitudes. Using my strategic communications, creative (yes, creative), relationship management and organizational expertise, I knew I could help set the stage for on-message communication and greater account profitability. I just didn’t know that to do this, I would be required to act as a human whipping board-cum-therapist-cum-Nanny 911.
The appalling truth-revealed almost immediately to me-is that in the context of the advertising industry, many creatives believe they are governed by a different set of professional conduct rules than would be acceptable almost anywhere else. Every industry has its bullies and brats, its power mongers and its victims, but advertising is the only industry I’ve seen where these behaviours are considered part and parcel of an acceptable code of conduct. If the money-hemorrhaging client suffers as a result, so be it. And if it seems wrong, you probably “just don’t understand advertising.”
I soon learned that I was neither friend nor foe to the creatives at the agency. Rather, I was a daily reminder that we were all worker bees and not carefree Picassos. Given the team’s midday beer breaks, sliding around the office barefoot and the fanatical need for extended timelines to get the “creative juices flowing,” my attempts at professional, friendly interaction seemed futile almost from the start. No matter how sweetly I tried to sugar-coat the business imperative or how enthusiastic I was, the reaction was the same. My role was not just an irritant but a personal affront.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I cracked open my treasure chest of solutions. Briefings? I upped the ante and started “performing” them. Work-back schedules? Colour-coded, handwritten personalized charts did the trick for a while. Negative client feedback? I developed a layered, slow immersion approach that actually garnered some notes of appreciation. But even dressed in a bright orange Lululemon tracksuit and runners, they still called me a “Suit”-the gravest of all advertising insults because the Suits just don’t get it.
I discovered that the idea of “client push back” and “creative integrity” took on a sense of severity in the agency context. Most often used as an excuse to drink lattes on the communal purple sofa, or play endless games of Foosball, the pursuit of “creative excellence” often came with a gut-wrenching amount of yelling, throwing (books or briefs aimed at the floor mostly), crying (real tears and lots of them), swearing (loudly), feet pounding (full toddler style), uncontrollable smirking, gossiping, bullying, cajoling and bald-faced lying. The aftermath included heartfelt, dramatic apologizing so as not to completely alienate the best-friend-yet-much-despised account person.
“The headline just CAN’T be one point bigger!” lamented a highly praised art director at the end of a particularly egregious tantrum. A striking blonde, her angular face was bizarrely contorted and streaming with perfect raindrop tears. “It’s just that…,” she paused for dramatic emphasis, “these changes will destroy the honesty of the work.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’m sorry you’re in the middle on this one. This client is soooo unreasonable and you’re the only one we have to lash out at.”
The kicker: These most obvious methods of subterfuge coupled with fleeting bouts of remorse were not only tolerated, they were taught, promoted and honed by the creative director.
A junior partner in the agency, her approach was astonishing in its power to squelch any attempt at reasonable professional conduct. A politically savvy “den mother” of sorts with a refined taste for gossip and a striking inability to grasp the client’s core service offering, she spent her time stoking the fires of creative discontent with relish and dedication. Typically wrapped from head-to-toe in elaborate vintage fabrics of iridescent brocades bottomed off by matching technicolour Mary Janes, she used her playful, “creative” persona to inspire loyalty in her team while stirring up a daily brew of ridicule (at the client’s expense), restlessness and deceit.
She proved to be a formidable opponent to keeping the agency’s business commitments, and as time passed I became convinced that her invitation-only, highly theatrical bitch sessions were the most valued part of her management style.
“Now, now,” I once heard her soothe a copywriter who had (amazingly) caused the team to miss a two-week deadline, “I know this is not the type of work you came here to do… And that’s just awful that your car broke down last night! Aren’t these people human? I don’t care what’s been promised. They (the client) just have to wait for the copy, and she (meaning me) will just have to figure out what to tell them. You go ahead and take the rest of the day off, poor thing.”
So within weeks of assuming the account director role, I was forced into the advertising dance of dishonour: maintain professionalism and a can-do attitude with an extremely bright yet demanding client to justify the agency’s high monthly retainer, and take on the form of a human shield against the agonizing daily game of procrastination, missed deadlines and overt hostility.
It’s inexcusable to treat a colleague with contempt, but sadly, the attitude toward the client was no better. I took my concerns about the overall level of agency professionalism to the partners, who gave me clear, Mission Impossible-style directives. They had made millions of dollars off my account and were thrilled to use this big name client when vying for new business. But, they confessed, the account did not generate “portfolio-leading,” “award-worthy” work. It was considered the bread and butter of the agency only. Merely the type of work that ensured everyone got paid.
Given this rationale, I was to do a better job “motivating” the creative team by staying on schedule without imposing one. By assigning deadlines without “over-architecting the dates.” By ensuring account profitability without infringing on anyone’s rights to an occasional emotional breakdown or hostile tongue-lashing.
“Get used to it,” I was told, “They’re creative! This is what working in an ad agency is all about.”
Part shrewd ad whiz, part beer-guzzling frat-boy and extreme-sports enthusiast, the youngest of the three male partners had a toddler, a wife and several homes under simultaneous renovation to support. Barely looking up from watching The Greatest Commercials of All Time on his laptop, he insisted that the vast, lifestyle-sustaining profit delivered to the agency via my client was, in fact, his chief concern. I was to spend much more time making sure the account was lucrative by nickel-and-diming the client for each photocopy produced and every transient moment of agency-provided “thought-leadership.” In short, if I caught anyone even thinking a creative thought, I was to put a price tag on it and send them a bill.
“Hey,” he offered, briefly touching on the topic of creative belligerence, “I know how it feels. When our creative director calls me to rant and rave about a client, I don’t even pick up the phone. I wait six to eight hours before getting back to her. By then, the ‘craziness’ has usually passed. Try that approach!”
My most illuminating moment came on the heels of a business trip to the client’s U.S. headquarters. The message was delivered to me by the person I worked most closely with at the agency, its dynamic founder: A lanky, self-appointed “idea man” who often seemed bewildered by his staff’s frequent outbursts and worked his personal ad magic flipping back and forth between fits of strategic genius and panicky angst. “It’s really just you and me who care about this client,” he sheepishly confided as our plane touched down at Pearson. “Finance, as a topic, is really just not sexy enough for our agency.”
And so I learned that target practice was ultimately not for me. I believe in having fun at the office, but also in providing a promised level of service to a paying customer. I expect to be treated with kindness and respect in any workplace, no matter how brilliant the shining pool of talent.
I recognize that clients can be difficult and demanding and they don’t always know what works best creatively. That’s why they hire ad agencies. Often too close to their own subject matter, they can give direction that renders great creative simply mediocre. This is, of course, frustrating for those who pool their time, talents and know-how to develop fresh perspectives and compelling concepts. Further, I agree that those on the agency’s business side should champion great work wherever possible so that it doesn’t dissolve into a mire of client-directed, bureaucratic red tape.
However, learning to work positively and effectively within client-driven parameters is a reality in all service industries. Advertising should not be exempt. I fail to see how ad agency workers suffer any more hardship than the lawyer who labours for weeks on a docket and then has a more senior associate reverse the approach to the case; or the urban planner who spends months drafting a plan for a new township and then has to “deprioritize” the project due to budget restrictions; or the tile layer who spends a weekend painstakingly laying tiles on a kitchen floor, only to have the client change the tile pattern and insist the job begin again.
My hat is off to the agencies who bolster strong, strategic creative without fostering bad behaviour as a necessary means to an end. My hat is also off to the advertising account directors who achieve the required Utopic blend of first-rate customer service and internal harmony without losing their souls in the process.
In the end I can thankfully say the experience was made bearable by a handful of diligent, professional creatives who didn’t seem to acknowledge the well-fortified agency fence. Able to produce dazzling creative concepts on deadline, these talented individuals habitually made the client sing and the agency profit without needing to take the piss out of the client or the account team. They made me see what attracts good people to the world of advertising and how much fun it can be to partake in the creative process every day. But more than all of this, it almost seemed as if they understood the client was a paying customer.
What a concept.
KIRSTEN CHASE is principal of a Toronto corporate communications company specializing in communications and marketing initiatives for marketers in finance, human resources, telecommunications, pharmaceuticals and software.
