A (Tough) Love Letter to Advertising
Dear Advertising,
25 years ago this week, you welcomed me with open arms.
While you didn’t know me, I certainly knew you. I had been studying you from afar ever since I could remember. Growing up, you always found a way to make me laugh.
Until you came into my life, I never heard the words “quicker” followed by “picker upper”. You showed me Tigers could be grrrrrrrrrrreat! You inspired me to “be like Mike”. And shared that all athletes don’t just mow down competition — they first mow down their Wheaties.
Indeed, you were the very best at enveloping education in a vessel of entertainment for the purpose of moving me. You were an astute teacher who enlightened me to “Just Say No”. You were a master at articulating that a sizzling egg was my brain on drugs. And, because of you, I discovered that “only” I could prevent forest fires.
So, 25 years ago, it was an honor for me to join your universe.
To share an office and learn from the tandem who dreamed up ‘The Most Interesting Man In the World”. To marinate in mentors who manifested, “Subway. Eat Fresh”. To share the halls with some of the most strategic minds on the planet.
The lessons I learned finding my own voice to tell stories is only because you let me behind the curtain of your sideways world.
For that, I want to thank you for all that you’ve offered.
And as I write this note, now comes the hard part.
You see, Advertising… This is not a love letter. This is a “tough love” letter.
And I don’t know how else to say the following but to come right out with it:
You’re a bit of a downer right now.
I am disappointed to run into you everywhere. You’re right there annoying me before I even watch a YouTube clip. Even on the day you should be shining brightest (The Super Bowl), I’ve been left craving so much more from you. In some countries, you’re now deemed pollution. And in my very own country, I witness my kids wanting to skip right over you.
While I commend you for your present transparency and directness, what’s being left off the table are all the things I learned about crafting a compelling story:
Less selling, less telling.
No feel? No deal.
If you’re not persuading us, you must be dissuading us.
Advertising, perhaps it doesn’t seem like it from this note, but I AM forever an optimist. You can be a master at introducing us to a new product. You can be golden in fighting competition. But it all comes down to your execution.
My advice?
Stop jamming everything about you in on the first date.
Make us think. Make us laugh. Make us feel.
Have the courage to leave us wanting more.
Maybe leave the QR code off the end card.
Give us credit that we’ll “get it”.
Trust we’ll connect the dots.
Point the story forward.
Show more, tell less.
I want better from you, Advertising. You are surrounded by so many talented creators who want to help you succeed. It’s not too late to get your spark back.
You welcomed me into your world with open arms. Don’t leave me with my arms folded.
(Tough) Love,
Ryan
