One of my all-time favorite shows is Mad Men. Partly, this is because my career motivations from a young age have been focused on the world of advertising. Like many who enjoy the show, I enjoy the chance to wander around America’s mid-century moment, especially at the birth of an industry that has become such a big part of our lives. I also see the show differently from most, as I spend my day-to-day working in the marketing and advertising space.
Mad Men had obvious deviations from reality—this was key to its charm. Perhaps the characters are living a little too glamorously—could there ever be a real-life Don Draper? But a few themes ring true: New York has been the home of creative chaos. Competition between small, hungry agencies drove innovation and creativity in an industry that came to shape that era, even as it itself was shaken by its tumultuous events. These were gradually swallowed up by larger players until nearly the entire industry fell into the orbit of the lifeless, uninspired conglomerates who existed to maximize the return on the investment of the shareholders.
Is this far from our present reality? The advertising industry does not operate on creativity, ingenuity, or innovation. Instead, the multi-billion dollar conglomerates will chase whatever is the latest cultural fad, whether it is a social justice cause or some platitude of “values” or play it sickeningly safe with what is more “brand maintenance” than innovative advertising.
There is no shaping of minds in today’s advertising industry. We just tell everyone what they already know, show them faces and things they already recognize, and repeat what they already believe. There is no will to break this mold, so there is no room for the imagination required to create new things.They are now just putting coins in a vending machine to boost completely derivative work that has been workshopped by layers of bureaucrats who are more worried about what could be lost instead of what could be gained.
We once thought that the digital landscape would shift so quickly that being on top of the latest technology would position a brand for success. But technology is only the medium, the method of delivery. So though the technology has changed rapidly, creating hundreds of opportunities for inventive advertising, brand identities have all shifted into autopilot mode.
We cannot pin this solely on the marginalization and eventual extinction of the mythic Don Draper who would lead with ideas and fight for the good ones with tenacity. It’s who has replaced him: layers of managers equipped for the age of performance advertising tactics that carry human resource department-vetted “creativity” to an increasingly alienated public. It is no small wonder that solo content creators on YouTube and Instagram have us glued to our phones, while companies with millions in ad money have to buy their way onto our screens for minimal returns. One creative can outpace and outperform an entire advertising firm dedicated to performance marketing—because they are not bogged down by the sheer size of their corporate structure.
This doesn’t work at a firm where those who are most plugged into trends have no decision-making power and sit at the bottom of a corporate bureaucracy, hoping that they follow the guidelines enough to be noticed and not cut in the next round of layoffs. The big players in advertising are like cruise ships—they are large, impressive, and expensive, but if they need to turn the rudders, they move glacially slow and at a wide angle.
This organizational pain associated with being a unique brand, and thus investing in highly creative leaders instead of in platoons of managers, means there is no motivation to innovate. Instead, they habitually woo clients with the firm's prestige and then prioritize their own brand-building—as if the client should feel privileged just to work with them. Clients put up with this “safe” attitude because they would rather have consistent returns that pay off modestly than take risks with new directions that change industries.
Thankfully, change is coming. The margins of the industry are starting to get out of this rut the giants have driven them into. The new generation of consumers is bored and business leaders can see that the dull, repetitive, "safe" ads (like those we saw in this year’s Super Bowl) are not moving anyone to buy one brand vs the other—let alone shape culture as advertising once did.
Don Draper is not coming to save advertising from itself. The Mad Man is dead and the McCanns killed him. The big firms are not going anywhere. They’ll continue to adopt whatever trendy language or bauble of innovation is making headlines to keep the big brand ad budgets in the building, but the best they can do is follow. Down the street, however, the value alignment between small-to-medium companies and similarly-sized ad agencies is strong. Both are interested in disrupting the status quo and being competitive in their category, which leads to creative risk-taking, innovation in tactics, and exploring new ways of organizing for work. In the midst of that beautiful chaos, a culture of competition and excellence is returning. Perhaps from it we will see the Mad Man rise again.
Nick Lindquist is a Strategist at Beck & Stone. Born and raised in New York, he now lives in Fort Worth, Texas.