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Killers and Poets

David Ogilvy once said, “Most good copywriters fall into two categories. Poets. And killers...If you are both killer and poet, you get rich.” Poets understand emotion.

They know how to make you feel what they want you to feel.

They work magic.

Killers understand strategy and know how to stay on it.

They work logic.

Clients love killers.

Then there’s the unicorn, the mythical killer poet, who can stay on strategy while making you give a damn about dish soap, or margarine, or just about anything.

These killer poets don’t only write advertising.

Some write about killers.

And these ex-copywriter’s have been responsible for some of the best crime novels ever written.

There’s logic to this.

A large part of copywriting is problem solving.

But problem solving is rarely straightforward, as Dashiell Hammett pointed out:

“The problem with putting two and two together is that sometimes you get four, and sometimes you get twenty-two.”

For a couple of years Hammett was the highest paid writer in America.

In the end he drank it all away, but not before banging out classics like, The Maltese Falcon and The Thin Man.

While he was learning his craft, he worked as copywriter for Samuel Moss, a San Francisco jeweler.

Hammett, an ex-Pinkerton man was every bit as tough as his creations, in spite of bad health.

During the McCarthy hearings he refused to name names, preferring to serve time.

Legend has it that when he went to prison the guards addressed him as Mr. Hammett out of respect.

The late Elmore Leonard was another ex-copywriter.

He worked for several years at Campbell Ewald, in Detroit.

Then he wrote more than 40 novels, including some great ones like: Get Shorty, Out of Sight, and Rum Punch.

A master of quirky dialogue and stripped down prose, around 15 of his books have been made into movies.

His 10 rules of writing are excellent advice and #10 should be hung over every copywriter’s desk:

“If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.”

Philip Kerr worked as a copywriter at Saatchi & Saatchi.

His Bernie Gunther novels may not be a household name--yet.

Tom Hanks is producing a series for HBO based on Kerr’s brilliant Berlin Noir trilogy.

Kerr’s hero Bernie Gunther, is a grouchy ex-cop, caught up in the maelstrom of Berlin between the wars.

Tough, cynical, funny, Gunter is a classic private dick.

He’s talking about crime, but could just as easily be talking about advertising, when he says:

“The man who succeeds is the man who is able to reduce problems to their simplest terms and who has the courage of his convictions.”

As every reader of crime fiction knows, once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, the third time it’s a pattern.

Copywriting sometimes feels like looking for clues; discover one and you get a better idea of what the next one looks like, a better idea for conjuring up your own blend of logic and magic.

A better shot at becoming a killer poet.

The Science of Tenacity

Percy Julian had been a fighter all his life. But in 1954, the organic chemist with a glittering career, appeared to be facing certain ruin.

He had invested every penny he had, and more that he had borrowed, in a plant to synthesize the steroid hormone progesterone.

The key to the process was the Barbasco yam that grew wild only in Mexico.

But the Mexican government wanted to protect its own steroid industry and would not allow Julian a supply.

So he sat in a hotel room in Mexico City, wondering if he should blow his brains out.

Percy Julian had always been tenacious; as an African-American born in Alabama in 1899, he needed to be.

In 1923, he graduated from Harvard with a M.Sc., but the university refused to let him complete his doctorate.

In 1931, he was awarded a PhD by the University of Vienna becoming the third African-American to hold a PhD in Chemistry.

In 1935, he achieved an internationally acclaimed breakthrough, with the total synthesis of the drug physostigmine from the Calabar bean.

He still couldn't find work.

When Glidden hired him as a Director of Research in 1936, it was rumored they hired him primarily, because he was fluent in German and they had recently acquired a plant in Germany.

Whatever their motivation, it proved to be a shrewd decision.

Over the 18 years he worked for them, Percy Julian made Glidden untold millions of dollars, and filed over 100 patents for the company.

In 1950, the Chicago Sun-Times named him Chicagoan of the Year.

The same year he moved his family to a house in Chicago’s Oak Park.

Before the family moved in, the house survived an arson attempt.

After they moved in, it was attacked with Dynamite.

For months every night Percy Julian sat in a tree in his yard, armed with a shotgun.

In 1953 he started his own company Julian Laboratories.

He landed a contract from The Upjohn Company to supply $2 million of progesterone.

But he couldn’t deliver it without the Mexican yam.

So he sat in his hotel room contemplating suicide.

There was a knock on the door.

Abraham Zlotnik was a former University of Vienna classmate.

Twenty years before, Julian had helped him escape from Nazi Germany.

Zlotnik was here to repay the favor.

He was sure the Barbasco yam also grew in Guatemala.

It did, and Julian Laboratories soon shipped the Upjohn order.

The company would nurture a generation of chemists.

The work Julian did there, and at Glidden, saved thousands of lives.

In 1973 Percy Julian was elected to the National Academy of Sciences.

He was the second African-American to be so honored.

Reader's Digest dubbed him, “The Man Who Wouldn’t Give Up.”

 

 

What’s Cookin’?

In 1968, Andy Warhol may or may not have said, “Everyone will be famous for 15 minutes”. Today, it’s debatable whether anyone’s attention span lasts even that long.

According to Medical Daily, humans now have a shorter attention span than goldfish.

There may be an entire school of philosophy that considers living in the moment a prerequisite for human happiness.

But why worry about that hippie shit, when you can just play Clash of Clans?

Or is living in a virtual moment, living in a valid moment too?

Maybe after 2000 years of civilization, we’ve earned the right to be flighty and superficial.

The right to enjoy: cat videos, royal babies, Kim Kardashian, “reality” TV, and the quasi-news-channel-still-known-as-CNN.

The zeitgeist of the early 21st century may well turn out to be distraction.

Of course, pop culture by nature, is ephemeral and distracting.

It’s only with hindsight some of it attains greater significance than it merits at the time.

When the pop gets dropped and we’re left with culture.

At Warhol’s first major  show, you could buy one of his iconic Campbell’s soup images for $100.

Hardly anyone did.

In 2010 Christie's sold one for just over $9 million.

This reappraisal of artists has been going on for centuries.

Charles Dickens was the most successful novelist of his time.

He created some of the most beloved characters in English literature but was considered a low-brow populist in his day.

Henry James condescendingly called him, "the greatest of superficial novelists".

Not until 1962, nearly 100 years after his death, was he deemed worthy of serious academic study, when a young grad called Michael Slater started work on the first PhD on Dickens.

Today Dickens is probably the most studied author in the English-speaking world, after Shakespeare.

Shakespeare himself was considered merely “talented” in his lifetime.

His reputation as a literary giant wasn’t widely acknowledged until the 18th century.

How will today's distractions fare—will anyone care about Katy Perry in 100 years?

I’m not guessing.

Longevity is unpredictable.

And to paraphrase Ol' Blue Eyes, all you can do, is do it your way.

Warhol’s way was reimagining everyday objects like Campbell’s soup cans.

I worked on the Campbell’s account for a while.

And as an expert, you can trust me when I say:

Life is like soup.

The trick is to discover your own recipe.

Bon Appetit.

 

Once Upon a Startup

It’s a familiar story. A couple of Yale grads rent a Lower East Side garret.

All they have is an idea.

They start working the phones to raise $100,000 in starting capital.

If their idea works, it will revolutionize media.

The young men are opposites in almost every way.

Brit is a bon vivant, prodigious, charismatic, and mercurial.

Henry is more reserved, a geek, and a bit of a bean-counter.

Together they make a formidable team.

The well-connected young men call everyone they know.

Friends, friends of friends, old college buddies, parents of old college buddies.

Almost everyone says no, but they keep calling.

After 18 months of pleading, cajoling and outright begging they’ve raised $85,675 and they decide to take the plunge.

In March, 1923 the first issue of Time magazine rolls off the presses.

No one has seen anything like it.

Time is a weekly news-magazine in an era where news is the domain of daily papers.

A lot of papers, in 1870 there were around 600 dailies in America, by 1900 there were over 2000.

And new media is exploding too.

From 1920 to 1922 over new 500 radio stations would start broadcasting.

The public are suffering from information overload.

And Time provides an imaginative solution.

Brit Haden and Henry Luce promise a magazine the busy businessman can read in an hour to stay informed.

Time has stumbled on aggregation, rewriting the important stories of the day in a snappy new journalese that came to be known as Timestyle.

Under Haddon’s inspired editorship it was often fun, and always fresh.

But originality does not always guarantee popularity.

The first issue bombed, subsequent issues struggled.

Sometimes Haddon had to resort to sending creditors cheques he had “forgotten” to sign.

But Luce and Hadden were tenacious.

By the end of 1923 Time had a few thousand subscribers.

By the end of 1924 the magazine boasted over 70,000 subscribers and turned a small profit.

It became a publishing sensation.

A couple of weeks after his 31st birthday, Briton Hadden died.

The bon viveur had long ago crossed over into alcoholism.

He caught an infection he couldn’t fight off and a few days later he was dead.

In an eerie pre-shadowing of Zuckerberg and Saverin falling out at Facebook,Luce set about erasing Haddon’s reputation as a founder of Time.

As Wikipedia acknowledges:

“Luce took Hadden's name off the masthead of Time within two weeks of his death. In the next 38 years, he delivered more than 300 speeches around the world, mentioning Hadden four times. Throughout his life, Luce repeatedly claimed credit for Hadden's ideas.”

Some 80 years later while media has changed beyond recognition, the size of founder’ ego seems to be a constant.

It would take 40 years, and Luce’s death, before Haddon’s name was restored to its rightful place on Time’s masthead.

When Time merged with Warner Communications in 1989, Time Warner was the world’s largest media company.

 

Playing to Win

The Toronto neighborhood I live in, has become a battleground, where residents live in fear of a knock on the door. By a quirk of resignations, happenstance and backroom deals, 3 concurrent election campaigns are raging: Federal, Provincial and Mayoral.

A knock on the door brings deja-vu and yet another canvasser with yet another clipboard and the same set of questions.

Not to mention the candidates, maybe you can imagine the gnashing of teeth and pointing of fingers, but I doubt it.

It’s hard to get through the day without catching a kitchen-full of pots calling kettles black as the candidates attempt to make an impression (any impression) on an increasingly zombiefied electorate.

More cheap shots are flying than in a bar during happy hour.

Here’s my favorite from earlier this week, as the Conservatives told off the incumbent Liberal premier.

“Kathleen Wynne set a very bad example this morning when she rode into her media avail with someone hanging off the side of a tractor,” the release read, citing statistics from the Health and Safety Guidelines for Ontario Tobacco Producers that farm tractors have killed 250 people on Ontario farms in a recent 15-year period.”

Gotcha, in-depth knowledge of tractor safety guidelines is a prerequisite for any Premier of Ontario.

Among the self-serving, credibility-lacking, doubly duplicitous nonsense served up daily, all the inanity falls into insignificance next to the ultimate electoral diss.

Playing politics” is a homely old chestnut, implying the trivialization of vitally important issues to score cheap superficial points.

It’s a one-size-fits-all put down to shoot down anything Party X supports that Party Y opposes.

Such as, "I am not happy with the politics being played out in this report," the world-famous Mayor Ford said at an afternoon news conference. "The ombudsman's report is supposed to be impartial and objective."

Well it didn’t mention Jimmy Kimmel.

Then there’s this comment about Prime Minister Harper from his former (now disgraced) aide Tom Flanagan.

“He believes in playing politics right up to the edge of the rules, which inevitably means some team members will step across some ethical or legal lines in their desire to win for the boss,’’ Flanagan writes.

The Prime Minister of Canada plays politics, really?

You have got to be kidding!

Where’s the logic here?

Footballers play football; musicians play music, what’s so remarkable about politicians playing politics?

Isn’t it their trade?

Isn’t it why we elect them?

Isn’t it playing that keeps Jackie from being a dull girl?

Instead of pretending politics is somehow above gamesmanship, I’d rather vote for someone who plays to win.

Not someone who sanctimoniously pretends it isn’t a game at all, albeit one with high stakes.

British politician Aneurin Bevan nailed it about 50 years ago when he said, “Politics is a blood sport.”

It's got even more ferocious since then.

Come election day there will be winners and losers.

The winners will be the players.

 

 

 

Life and Death on a Stage

February 10th, 1949 saw the first night of a new play directed by Elia Kazan. As the final curtain fell, the cast was greeted by a stunned silence that stretched into eternity.

Then the auditorium of Broadway’s Morosco Theatre exploded with cheers and applause.

After many curtain calls, the audience still refused to leave.

Some of them were in tears.

And no one was sobbing harder than the producer, Cheryl Crawford.

She had been offered the chance to produce Death of a Salesman—and turned it down.

So Kermit Bloomgarden took a chance, and now he had produced the hit of the season.

Death of a Salesman would win a bucketful of awards including both the Pulitzer and the Tony for best play.

It would make a star of actor Lee J. Cobb and cement the reputation of its author Art Miller.

And it would live among the contenders for best American play ever written.

When Crawford passed on the play, such acclaim seemed unlikely.

Death of a Salesman is a serious play.

The title is not in the least metaphorical, spoiler alert: the salesman dies!

The play chronicles the splintering of the American dream.

Critics have debated whether it’s a tragedy, or a play with tragic elements, but it is certainly a depressing play.

On top of this non-commercial story, the plot unfolds in layers of present time and flashbacks, a device borrowed from the movies.

Not everyone was convinced this could work on stage, or that audiences would understand when a scene was supposed to be taking place.

Investors had committed to the project, sight unseen, based on the reputations of those involved.

When they actually got to read the play their reaction was not altogether positive.

Some reduced their investment.

Others pulled out all together.

In terms of financing this was a hiccup, but the doubts, as doubts often do, became contagious.

Kazan decided Miller should rewrite the play in chronological order.

Reluctantly Miller agreed.

It took Bloomgarden to get the project back on track.

After reading the new draft he said succinctly, “This piece of shit I will not do.”

He arguably saved a masterpiece, but then it was his turn to have doubts.

The word “death” in the title was off-putting, and Bloomgarden wanted a new title.

This time it was Miller’s turn to stand his ground.

He pointed out a current flop called: A Smile of the World as proof that a happy title didn’t guarantee a hit.

These stutter-steps, doubts, half-doubts and reaffirmations will be familiar to anyone who works in a creative industry.

It’s not unlike the dynamic in many agencies.

Get the combination right and the campaign’s a hit.

Get it badly wrong and you’re looking for a job.

It takes strong stomachs.

The salesman died, but there was a birth to celebrate too.

As Garson Kanin observed, “At the time the play was in rehearsal he was only a playwright named Art Miller.

After it opened he became Arthur Miller.”

 

 

 

 

The Cleverest Advertising is About Nothing

Advertising is a simple business.

We persuade people to buy goods and services.

We do it by pointing out a product’s benefits and giving them a reason to buy.

And when we do our jobs convincingly, they do buy.

And when we perform at the highest level, people form emotional attachments to brands.

This may not happen very often, but when it does the results are remarkable.

Think of the Apple cult at its height.

500 people lining up overnight to buy the latest gadget.

In 2001, the latest gadget was the iPod.

Original-Apple-iPod

This is the original ad and it’s excellent.

It’s as close to a product demo as you can get in print.

The ad doesn’t need to be clever, because it’s advertising a product with revolutionary benefits.

So it simply states what the product does.

And it worked, millions of people bought iPods.

But revolutionary products are the exception.

The majority of products aren’t that clever.

The majority of products are actually, or virtually, parity products.

Like toothpaste, or toilet paper, or detergent.

These products are the antithesis of clever.

They don’t have real competitive advantages, in spite of what the agency brief may proclaim.

No one is lining up overnight to buy toilet paper.

If you’re like me, you buy whatever name brand is on special, because it doesn’t matter.

So how do you make it matter?

How do you get people to care about toilet paper, or dish soap, or whatever?

How do you make the unremarkable remarkable?

How do you distinguish the indistinguishable?

How do you sell parity products?

By being clever, that’s how.

Advertising needs to be clever in inverse proportion to the cleverness of the product.

Truly clever products don’t require clever advertising.

They require advertising that clearly communicates why they’re clever—and then they’ll sell themselves.

That’s why the cleverest advertising is about nothing.

It’s because the degree of difficulty is higher.

Like Olympic diving where the difficulty of the dive is factored into the final score.

Doing an easy dive perfectly can score fewer points than doing a hard one imperfectly.

It’s harder to advertise toilet paper than sexy new technology.

Here’s a great ad that says absolutely nothing about the product.

[vimeo http://vimeo.com/72820291]

It says nothing, but we understand a lot.

That’s pure creativity.

And according to the awards show Eurobest, it  increased sales by 130%.

That’s the power of saying nothing brilliantly.

Advertising is a simple business, but simple is not the same as easy.

Thinking cleverly is rarely that.

He Shoots! He Scores! And the Crowd Goes Wild

Business loves sports metaphors. We’re encouraged to punch above our weight.

Not drop the ball, be a team player and stick to the game plan.

Most of all we’re encouraged to go for goal.

Or reach our goals, or set strategic goals, or even move the goal posts while the competition isn’t looking.

No business/sports analogy is as full court press ubiquitous as the goal metaphor.

It’s become such standard business speak, that no one thinks twice about it.

Everyone knows what a goal is, or assumes they do.

But look into the metaphor a little more deeply and one thing becomes clear.

In sport, as in business, there are many different ways to score a goal.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mt9Pkd8M_Oo&w=640&h=360]

There are counter attacking goals, breakaways where the tables are turned with jujitsu like fluidity. Like Apple and Samsung decimating Blackberry.

There are flukes, the footie equivalent of inventing Post-it notes, and where would we be without Post-it notes?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cs4ALfkafkY&w=640&h=480]

(You may not get this until the slo-mo replay)

Not forgetting team goals, the result of twenty chess like passes culminating in that final pass into the net.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxyYSoblpcI&w=640&h=480]

Teamwork is prized as one of business’s duo of holy grails, alongside innovation.

And rightly prized because there’s only so much a single person can achieve.

You can’t do it all yourself, so there is no “I” in team, but does too much emphasis on team work stifle individual brilliance?

Can an over reliance on teamwork lead organizations to hire for the echo chamber and discourage disruption?

Disruption – that grit in the oyster that sometimes forms the pearl of innovation.

It’s undeniable that all goals count, but given the choice who wants to score from a scrappy goalmouth melee if they can score a blinder like this breathtaking piece of individual brilliance from Zlatan Ibrahimovic.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBTLhdMhcXw&w=640&h=360]

Who says there’s no “I” in team?

Whatever your goal, all goals share one thing in common; you have to be prepared to take the shot.

You have to be willing to risk missing.

You can’t win if you’re afraid of losing.