It’s that time of the year again. Emails from global heads you’ve never seen clutter your mailboxes. They tell you, “It’s that time of the year again.” When we must bring together the best of our talent, form a creative army and gun for the Cannes Lions. NCDs send emails to ECDs. ECDs usher in the ACDs. The ACDs round up all the minions. Because it’s time we start focussing on “proactive”.
For the uninitiated and unfamiliar, let us begin today’s lesson by demystifying the aura that envelops the word ‘proactive’. Because, while it may sound misleadingly enterprising and… well… proactive, what it is is a convenient euphemism for the word ‘scam’. And scams, as we all know, are the bane of advertising. Or so they say.
And so everyone scans the agency for people they could pair up with. Hush-hush tones are employed lest actual art-copy teams are broken. Dreams of glory are dreamt. Real work is put on the back-burner. An air of self-importance masks the general smell of smoke and perspiration. Clients are categorised as ‘Good Clients’ (allow scams) and ‘Bad Clients’ (don’t allow scams). If we don’t find what we’re looking for, then the work is first created and then the client hunted down, tucked away somewhere in the Yellow Pages. Rest assured, most, if not all work done in this manner falls under the ‘Public Service’ category. And the said client, therefore, is likely to be an unheard of organisation working for the empowerment of women or the education of street children or something like that. A little voice nags at you, saying, “This is just wrong.” But like most little voices in advertising, it will be ignored… nay, smothered. You begin to rationalise. “They could use the help. I’m being charitable. I will do their leaflets (gasp!) for free (gasp!) if they let me create this one award-winning, portfolio-worthy campaign.” Of course, none of it is true. No one save the award juries and advertising guys will really see the masterpiece that is your ad, so it won’t really help the organisation. They didn’t ask you to help them, so you’re not really being charitable. As for their leaflets, it’d be an absolute wonder if you did that work for high-paying clients without the unnecessary attitude and snide remarks, so writing one on domestic violence for no money is as likely to happen as the Maharashtra CM’s promising Mumbai’s roads will be free of potholes starting today.
And then there are those who suffer from the most common dilemma there is in such time. It’s what I like to call the ‘Scammed-If-You-Do-Scammed-If-You-Don’t’ catch-22 situation. It’s when you decide for yourself to not participate in this self-indulgent extravaganza but have your bosses come and tell you, “You must gun for metal this year. Even if it kills your soul, crushes your spirit and questions your morals, you must try and win something. It’s extremely important for raises and promotions, and especially so if when you’re looking for a change.” Followed by the ultimate sign-off, “If you have ethics, you shouldn’t be in advertising.” (I’ve actually been told that.)
With that the final dregs of hope are scattered to the wind and you put pen to paper, succumbing to what the industry asks of you. You manage to pull off a scam or two. Before you know it, the idea even begins to grow on you. And if you do manage to win an award, then it’s safe to say you’ve arrived at a point of no return. You begin to bask in the sheen of those shiny things that line the walls of your agency. You look for your reflection in the trophy that belongs to your campaign – never your client’s campaign, mind you. You begin to think you’re too good for this work. And the agency. You wait for when you’ll be called in to the President’s cabin, hoping he’ll personally tell you what an asset you are to the agency and give you a stupendous raise. But it doesn’t happen. You get bitter. You begin to mutter, “Four awards and still being paid peanuts! What blasphemy!” You quit. You thrust your book under the noses of new ECDs. They’ll tell you one of two things. “This is scam work. We don’t do scams.” Or, “There isn’t enough award-winning work in your portfolio. You’re not right for the job.” You begin to wonder what just happened. You understand what it means to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. You think of quitting advertising for good. Until some agency very desperate to hire hires you. And the same cycle repeats… like on loop.
You get used to it. You make your peace with it. You get on with it. You stop writing blog posts about it.
