On Thursday, March 23rd, I am presenting a webinar about brand storytelling where I describe some of the very best ways I’ve found to create storytelling platforms. (Register here.) A big part of storytelling, of course, is establishing conflict. I couldn’t fit everything into the webinar, and had to cut this part about the purpose of conflict in brand storytelling. So, I put it here.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Creativity happens best, in my opinion, when we’re presented with a problem, not a solution.
I am not a strategist and never have been. But in my experience, I think the best briefs set things up as a problem, not a solution.
A wall, for example, presents itself.
Okay, … I can go over the wall – with a rope, a ladder. I can go under it with a shovel, through it with a bulldozer, or beam down on the other side with Spock.
Or, on the other hand, I can be presented with the land on the other side of the wall. (Which is how I think most briefs read. “Please do an ad about this fine ten-square-yard patch of lawn.”) Well, I’m sure it’s a fine hundred-square-feet of winter rye on the other side of the wall; thick, green, and the envy of the entire block. But because it’s a solution and not a problem, as a creative I always wondered, where do I go from here?
One could argue this hypothetical lawn could be turned into something creatively dazzling, in all kinds of ways. It could, yes, but I’ll dig in my heels here to make a point. When you start with a problem, you have the beginning of a story. And story is a bigger, better place to work towards than just an ad or a campaign.
As you may recall from Mrs. Hansen’s 11th-grade English, all drama is conflict. Sometimes it’s a protagonist versus an antagonist. Sometimes it’s love versus loneliness. But there’s always a “versus” and it’s that versus which drives the story.
What’s interesting to note here is how stories never start with a “happy ending.” A good thing, because happy endings aren’t interesting. It’s the beginnings, where the problems are, that make us lean in. I’ll wager if we were hours late to a movie, few of us would buy a ticket to catch the last scenes and the credits. Everything turned out okay of course, but it’s the least interesting part of the story.
Unfortunately, many people think the purpose of a brief is to provide creatives with all the information they’ll need to film the happy ending.
I’m not positive I’m right about this. But I suspect most creatives would agree it’s easier to create something interesting when you’re presented with a problem and not a solution.
That’s my 2¢. What’s yours?
“Don’t do an ad. Do something interesting.”
This is one of the best and most basic pieces of advice I have for my students and, for that matter, anyone in the communications industry. Because when you follow it, you’ve pulled yourself out of the old world of advertising into the new.
The old-world model is what I’ll call “interruption-based” advertising.
In this model (which is kinda like Mad Men), we all sit around drinking Old Fashions, smoking filter-less cigarettes, and figuring out the right message; the right headline. “What,” we ask, “is precisely the thing we want to say?”
Once we have this polished gem of advertising perfection, we go out into the world and use it to interrupt, harangue, and irritate pretty much everybody. We barge into their homes, onto their TV programs and car radios, and breathlessly unreel our fascinating story about the acne medication that will change lives.
The new model, I think, is not only more polite but more effective. The new model suggests instead of saying something, we do something. We do something so interesting we don’t have to interrupt anybody to get their attention. Because if what we do is sufficiently interesting, they’ll find us. Our ads don’t have to carry our message, people will.
The real trick in this new model is this: we have to do things so interesting, people will listen even if they’re not currently in the market for our brand or even our category. I’ve watched – and I’ve shared – interesting content made by tampon manufacturers. Such is the difference between messaging and content. Because content is interesting in and of itself.
Where we once spent time worrying about what our clients should say, today our time is often better spent figuring out what brands can do.
Doing something interesting, something that communicates the value of a brand without using interruption, is the first part of a simple four-step approach I learned from my co-author, Edward Boches. He writes about it elegantly on pages 211 – 213 in the new edition of Hey Whipple, Squeeze This.
I’ll be doing a live webinar on how folks can use this concept to leverage social media platforms for their brands. It happens this very Friday, December 9th at 12:30. You can register here.
The best creative director I ever worked for was the late Mike Hughes of the Martin Agency. One day we were talkin’ about the business and Mike said, “Just because you’re a great creative person doesn’t mean you’ll make a great creative director.”
He was very clear about it, even to the point of saying, “Y’know, I don’t think I was such a great creative, but I’m doin’ pretty well as a creative director, right?” (To which, of course, I agreed.) He said the two require very different skill sets.
And yet here in the ad industry, as in many other fields, promotion to the rank of creative director happens almost exclusively as a result of being a great creative. It happened to me that way and now, looking back, I realize my creative career didn’t prepare me for creative management.
At the time, my game plan was simply not be like many of the creative directors I’d worked for. I wasn’t going to be an asshole. I wasn’t going to browbeat or embarrass the staff. I wasn’t going to compete with them. I thought if I could just be “one of the guys” I’d be all right. But like parenting experts say, your kids don’t want you to be their buddy, they want a parent. I could’ve been better.
I’ve done an awful lot of study since those days, a lot of reading, a lot of studying, and a lot of work with different agencies that hire me to give advice on their creative process. On October 28, I’ll be giving an online seminar on what I’ve learned. It’s not just for creative directors in agencies. It’s for any company that has to produce creative of any kind. (You can register here.)
I’ve done so much study in this area, there simply isn’t time in a hour to present everything I’d like to cover. So here’s a little part I had to cut. I think it’s good advice.
Learn to move on 80%.
Moving on 80% is an idea I think came from the military arts. One of the lessons of generalship is learning you’ll never have perfect intel. You’ll likely never know with 100% certainty the right course of action to take. And if you do wait for 100% certainty, you’ll lose anyway because you’ve waited too long.
This is learning to live with ambiguity.
In life, most of us learn how to reduce ambiguity. We learn that it pays to proceed slowly, to weigh all the risks and benefits of proceeding in a certain direction. But in this industry, proceeding slowly is rarely an option. 100% certainty isn’t on the table.
What some creative managers try to do then, to improve their shot at 100%, is split their troops and try to cover as much exploratory ground as possible. Exploration is in fact a key part of the creative process, … in an ideal setting. Meaning, when there’s time. But we almost never have enough time for robust creative exploration.
Yet, many CDs take this approach even as time runs out, splitting up their creative resources like they’re a posse in an old Western. “Okay, you guys head to the border, you guys make for the gully, you stay by the bank, and then report back to me. At the saloon.”
Trying to explore all the options under time pressure reminds me of a fantastic passage from Stephen Leacock, a writer from the early 1900s. “He flung himself from the room, flung himself upon his horse, and rode madly off in all directions.”
Better, I think, is to do what exploration the deadline allows for and then use your judgement to decide which direction to go. Move on 80%. Yes, it might turn out to be the wrong direction, but you’ll learn from this and you’ll have a better idea where to go. Remember, creativity is iterative.
Endlessly debating options and over-thinking a creative decision chews up development time, and will never get you to 100% certainty anyway. In life, there’s little certainty; in creativity, none.